Vulnerable: A Darth Vader Fanfiction
by TheLastUnicorn123
Summary: Yoda has been spotted, The Emperor doubts Vader's loyalty, and Padme's soul is reincarnated. Lord Vader sees a glimpse of Light. Will he stay in the Darkness or will he dare to Hope? The Empire now covets Vader's love interest. Will she be torn apart? Will she stay with her knight? This will not strictly follow canon. Please be kind.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **Please know this won't strictly follow canon, but I am trying to keep Lucas's characters as close as possible to the original intent. Please be kind, this is my first fanfiction. It is just for fun and not meant to offend or be taken seriously. Hope you like it :) Please review! Constructive criticism please, not mean. Let's be adults.**

Pamila lived in a beat up apartment in an industrial area of Chicago. Very isolated and desolate. She always got the creeps driving home at night. It was white to say, but she half expected to get shot or hijacked.

A trunk full of groceries, Pamila was groggy on her way back home. A loud boom startled her. She saw smoke rising high from a vacant lot. She pulled over, leaning over the steering wheel to get a better look. When she couldn't see a damn thing, she got out of the car and ran towards the smoke. She had to check to make sure no one was hurt.

Crashed into the wall of an empty warehouse was the strangest vehicle Pamila had ever seen. It looked like what was now a smashed black sphere with wide, grey, vertical panels on either side.

Without hesitation, Pamila rushed into the warehouse to get to the crash. On the 3rd floor she saw exactly were the damage was. The glass panel in the front of the vehicle was all smashed up and broken. Sparks were flying. The smoke kept choking her up and making her cough.

Squinting, she thought she could make out a dark motionless figure in the pilot's seat. A weird mechanical wheezing emanated from it. On closer inspection, it looked like a tall man covered from head to toe in black. Not an inch of skin showing. He wore a strange helmet…

Pamila shook her head and focused. None of that was important now. She marched to the broken panel and tried to open it. She failed. She picked up a stray brick and smashed it on the glass. Enough glass finally broke off that she could reach the man. She winched as some hot sparks hit her cheek, but she kept her concentration. Trying not to knick herself on the broken glass, she reached in for the man, grabbing one of his arms. She pulled, but he was very heavy.

Pamila tried again when she saw her phone light up. This was definitely the worst time to get a text! She grudgingly glanced at it and saw it was a police alert. It warned of some strange activity and advised people to stay inside. Pam knew they meant this crash and this . . . man. She was in a time crunch now. Obviously none of this was normal. God knows what they would do to this man! She had to help him, hide him.

With even more gumption, she yanked him by both arms now. His chest now rested on her shoulder. She adjusted both him and herself so his waist was draped over her shoulder. She had to take extra care with his chest because he had some sort of control panel on it. So not normal!

Slowly she stood up. She wished she could say it was because she was trying not to damage him more, but it was mostly because he weighed a ton. She took her next steps carefully. The stairs were going to be a bitch! With each step down, Pamila was having a panic attack. She didn't want to fall or worse, drop him. With her luck, they'd both be sprawled out at the bottom of the stairwell and get arrested.

Gradually and nervously, she finally made it to the ground floor. Pam swore she could here sirens off in the distance. Her body moved full force now towards the car. She didn't do all that just to get caught!

She reached for her keys in her pocket, the stranger still on her shoulder. She used her mouth to grab the key to her Prius. She fumbled to open the backseat, but she did it and clumsily heaved the man back there. Once he was secure enough, she rushed to the driver's seat. She pushed the key into the ignition and put pedal the medal. Once she turned the corner, she went back to the speed limit. Best not to attract attention. She looked in the rear view mirror. To make sure they weren't being followed, but also just to look at her passenger once more. He looked very strong and capable, but his breathing sounded sad and sickly. Well, this was one way to spend a Saturday night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Two Months earlier**

Darth Vader heard the whoosh of the elevator door as it opened. Before him, he saw his Master upon a throne, gazing at the nothingness of space. Vader knew his master was aware of his arrival. A sith lord couldn't afford to not be aware of his apprentice's presence for it could cost them their life. Darth Sidious knew this well.

"Why do you hesitate, friend?" The Emperor cooed as he turned to face Vader. "You have seemed distracted of late."

Vader weighed his response carefully, not wanting to show anymore vulnerability than his Master already sensed. "It is a small, petty matter. Nothing worth mentioning to you, Master."

The Emperor choked a small laugh, "Perhaps, perhaps. However, it is a matter your master wishes to hear. Do you dare deny me?"

Lord Vader, the great terror of the Empire, felt himself shrink. "No, my Master."

"Good, though I sense you still resist to tell me. Very well, I will attempt to guess." The Emperor gracefully lifted himself from his throne, moving towards Vader. He began methodically circling him, "You are disappointed in me. In your thoughts, you question why you chose the Dark Side. Remind me friend, why did you turn?"

Darth Vader's mechanical breathing caught for a moment, "For Padme," he finally admitted. "To save her."

Sidious cackled and nodded, knowing all that had transpired. "Yes, it was I who told you of the unnatural powers the Dark Side possessed. That is why you gave me your loyalty. Unfortunately, Padme did die and you have come to doubt me, even contemplating rebellion."

"They are just brief, passing thoughts, Master. Nothing more than air." Trying to hide it, Vader began to tremble slightly. Her loss was a wound that never fully healed. He only covered it with hate, anger, and power. Now his Master was trying to unearth his demons.

The Emperor tsked, "Thoughts grow and harden, my apprentice. It was fleeting thoughts that led you to betray the Jedi!" The Emperor's voice turned into a hiss, but he calmed once more. "Fret not, my son. I won't let these thoughts trouble you anymore."

Vader knew his Master had little choice but to kill him. A show of strength was needed. The Emperor couldn't let the seeds of rebellion spread, especially so close to him.

Lord Vader knelt down on one knee, "I am prepared to die, my Master."

Darth Sidious tilted his head then knelt down beside Vader, cupping his armored chin, "My dear friend, your senses are truly distracted. If you think I'm going to kill you, then you have no idea of my true intentions. Did you even notice how truly alone we were when you entered here?"

Vader looked around. Yes, there was something. He glance back at the elevator door. The two Royal Guards posted there were missing. His Master must have sent them away. He looked at his Master, feeling dazed. "What is it you intend?"

The Emperor stood up and smiled, "I intend to keep my promise. I will show you the true power of the Dark Side."

Luckily, the mask prevented the Emperor from seeing Lord Vader's eyes widen. Could he truly be talking about bringing her back? Or was he once again misunderstanding his Master.

"You hide your excitement and lessen your expectations," Sidious smirked. "Wise, but unnecessary. Your suspicions are correct."

At first, to his own surprise, Vader was elated. Then reality began to sink in. "It has been twenty one years, Master. Surely any attempt to bring her back is futile."

His master nodded and laughed, "In a way you are right. Yet once again you miss the glaring truth. Her body is gone. Yes, that much is true. However, her soul has lived. It simply moved on at the moment of her body's demise. Now it has a new body, new name, new life, but the same soul. Padme's soul."

Vader's emotions contradicted each other, "She won't remember me."

"Perhaps that is beneficial," The Emperor continued. "In this way, she will not have seen your treachery. She will have never known Anakin Skywalker, only Lord Vader. We will show her the Dark Side of the Force."

Those words reverberated in Vader's mind like a bell. Only know Darth Vader. The man, the machine. For a moment, he imagined holding a person lovingly in his robotic arms. A woman looking up into his masked face, or worse, his scars. He shook the image from his mind. No woman would want a machine. Or a monster.

"It would be impossible," he muttered deeply.

He heard his Master chuckle once more, "You may surprised. It all depends on the woman. Many like…hard luck cases. They are funny creatures. Besides, it would be Padme's soul. Some part of her will accept you." The Emperor walked back to his throne and sat down. "Before you argue against me, let me inform you I have already found the girl and have every intention of presenting her to you."

Darth Vader wanted to rise to his feet and demand The Emperor reconsider, for the girl's sake as well as his own. However, his obedience triumphed. And he simply replied, "As you wish, my Master."

Darth Sidious's corpse like face gave off a self-satisfied smirk. He then extended his arm and opened his palm. Inside was a holograph device. Using the Force, the device sprung to life and an image of a young woman appeared. She didn't seem too fat or thin in Vader's mind. Her full face was curtained by light wavy hair. She wore a shirt with the letters ASPCA on it. Vader had no idea what that meant.

"This is Pamila. She is Padme's reincarnation." The Emperor explain, the smirk never leaving his face.

Vader nodded slightly, "When you said you found her, I assumed she was already here on this station."

The Emperor stopped smirking. "Unfortunately, she seems to be out of my reach."

"Master?" Vader questioned.

"She is . . . not in this Universe. Yet she is. Even with all my power, I could only manage to gain this image."

The emotions that had filled Vader began to subside. Part of him knew his Master couldn't bring his love back to him.

"So even the Dark Side is limited," Vader finally stated.

"No! I refuse to believe it!" his Master snarled. "The Dark Side is all powerful. No, I just need time to study this matter. Nothing is out of my grasp. Nothing!"

Vader looked down at the floor, still doubting his Master.

"I understand, my Master," he lied.

As if snapping out of a trance, Sidious blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head slightly, "Leave me, Lord Vader."

Darth Vader got up off his knee, bowed, and gladly left his Master.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lord Vader sat in his specialized chamber, looking at a reflection of his unmasked face. He looked old. He was old, nearing fifty. And now his Master wished to force him upon a young woman. A woman who had her whole life ahead of her. Vader felt like he was being forced to take on a concubine. He shook his head. No, she would not be that. Never that. If he was forced to have a woman in his life, he would insure she was respected. Lady Vader. His ray of Light in his world of Darkness.

He inspected his face. The scar on the top of his head and those on his cheek made him cringe. They never used to bother him, but now it was repulsive. With his mechanical hand, he traced the long scar with his fingertips, then veered to his permanently bald head. His pale, sickly skin. No woman could love him, let alone see his true form without shrieking.

A beep interrupted his thoughts. It was from his rooms outside communicator. He reattached his helmet, unsealed his pod, and then opened the transmission. Duty always called.

"What is it?" he asked in his stern, deep voice.

"Captain Swift reporting, my lord. I have news from Dagobah." A cocky voice replied. Vader killed the transmission and used the Force to let the captain in.

Swift entered. Behind him came a grungy, hunched over man. Vader made mental note to have his room thoroughly cleaned after they left. The captain stopped in front of Lord Vader with a click of his heels, bowing. "Lord Vader, your efforts have paid off. Master Yoda has been spotted on the Dagobah System."

Vader remained unimpressed, "How did you come by this information?"

"By my trusted informant in that area," Swift smiled proudly, gesturing at the man behind him. Vader examined the strange man closely. A thin film of dirt and grime covered most of his thin body. His clothes were pitiful rags and his obvious health seemed abysmal. Vader guessed he was a hermit fisherman or just some wild man that lived deep in the swamp. Unimpressive indeed.

Lord Vader fixed his gaze directly at the disheveled man, adding a bit of the Force into his words, "You will tell me _exactly_ what it is you saw."

The man straightened a bit, his expression blank, "Well, it was foggy, ya see. I was just on my fishin' rock when I hear this cough. A cough chuckle more like. I turn and I think I see a short guy floating on a log. I blink, then he was just gone. It's all there was."

Swift shifted his weight. Clearly this was not how he wanted his informant to tell the tale. The captain still tried to look sure of himself.

"I see," said Vader, deeply entrenched in the Force. A moment passed and Swift began to think Vader was pleased with the information. Then he heard a loud, sharp intake of breath. Swift turned to see his poor informant grasping at his throat, choking. He was begging for mercy. Swift looked at Vader who looked like he was just relaxing in his chair. He glanced back at his informant who was now on his knees. Finally, the man slumped to his side, dead. Swift tried very hard to look cold and unaffected, but his mouth quivered as he tried to stifle a scream.

Lord Vader pointed a finger at him, "I want a verified account from you, Captain, not some fish story. Now you will return to Dagobah and provide me with a detailed, accurate report or you don't return at all. Do I make myself clear, Captain Swift?"

Vader didn't need to use the Force. Swift understood him fine without it. "It will be done, my lord." He replied shakily.

As he turned to leave, Vader added, "And don't consider deserting for I promise you I can bring you a fate worse than death from light-years away."

Swift wasn't sure if he was bluffing. He just looked frightened and left. When he was gone, Darth Vader looked at the dead body on his floor. What a disgusting looking man. He pushed the intercom button in his chamber.

"Send a trash crew to my quarters immediately," he demanded coolly. Then he sealed himself back in his oxygen chamber, not wanting to watch storm troopers remove yet another body from his quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 **Present Day**

Luckily, Pamila's apartment building seemed pretty devoid of people. And even if there were people around, it was the kind of place where questions weren't asked and shouldn't be asked. Forgetting about her groceries, Pamila lugged the stranger out of her car and into her building. He seemed to be alive. He was still giving off that strange whirring noise. She was starting to get used to his bulk. He felt quite muscular. Pamila tried not to find that alluring.

She only lived on the 2nd floor, so she wouldn't have to struggle as much as she did at the warehouse. She had to lay him on the floor, stand behind him, and drag him up the stairs by his arms as she walked backwards. It was hard to do with his damn cape. It tired her out, but at least he was safe.

She clumsily unlocked her door and dragged him inside. She slammed the door, locking it up quickly. Pamila picked him up the best she could and moved to her bedroom. She carefully placed him on the bed, laying him out on his back.

Now she had to think about what she was actually going to do to heal this man. What was he? How the hell could she save a person she knew nothing about? But she had to try. His control panel seemed like a good place to start. However, she didn't dare touch or mess with too many things because she may end up killing him on accident. Still, what choice did she have? On the panel there were two red buttons. One was small, the other a large switch. Pamila decided to risk pressing the big red switch. She pressed it quickly, held her breath, and crossed her fingers. Her heart skipped a beat when he stopped making noises. He stayed that way for at least a minute, his body unmoving. For Pamila, it might as well have been hours. Tears welled up in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands as she sank to her knees. She killed him. She saved him just to have him die…

 ** _Hoool-puur—Hoool-puur—Hoool-puur_**

She cautiously dropped her hands from her face. The stranger's chest began to rise and fall. The panel on his chest was now lit up. His breath still sounded funny to Pamila, but at least it sounded stronger and more even. Maybe that's how he was supposed to sound.

Just to be on the safe side, Pamila got out her oxygen tank that she let those who couldn't afford one use while doing her volunteer work for Meals on Wheels. Not daring to risk removing his mask, she stuck the tubes in through the vent near his mouth. She hoped that may help. She turned the pump on and heard the air flowing.

Pamila remained kneeling by his side for several more moments, not daring to take her eyes off of him. Thank God he was alive! Pamila slid a hand underneath his chest plate. She could feel his heart beat. Her hand lingered on his chest longer than it should have. He felt so lean, so firm. She traced her hand over the burnt fabric of his suit for a moment. Realizing what she was doing, she snatched her hand away and cursed herself. So inappropriate! Taking advantage of a man while he was unconscious and in need. How low could she get?

Hating herself, she sat in her cushioned armchair across the room. She curled her legs up to her chest, letting herself snuggle against the back of the chair. It was a tight fit, but Pamila barely noticed. Her sight remained focused on the strange man in her bed. She let out a small yawn, feeling her eyelids starting to flutter. Slowly, she fell asleep, her last sight the flickering lights on his chest plate.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 **Two Months Earlier**

Yoda meditated quietly in his hut. He had spent the day repairing his roof. It was skill he had refined over all his years of banishment. While refilling the cracks with mud-like clay, anger had begun to swell in the old Jedi master. Each scrape of his hands against his failing roof fueled his resentment, his hate. He didn't deserve this. His life had been dedicated to preserving peace, justice, and kindness. Now all that had crumbled due to the Chosen One's misguided ambition.

This is why he had to meditate. The depth of his fury scared him. He had to compose himself. Slowly he breathed, being aware of all the thoughts that flowed through his mind, not trying to hide from them. He faced all the anger, all the bitterness, and calmly accepted it. Then he focused his mind to Light, asking it to help him use this passion for something good. Not for destruction.

He thought he had centered himself when an emotion bubbled up. It felt foreign. Yoda realized it was not his emotion he was feeling. It was a mixture of hope and despair. It made Yoda cold inside, like ice water filled his heart and was being pumped through his veins. He placed a green hand on his chest, hoping to ease this terrible feeling. The Jedi master remained focused on that emotion however. He was curious of its origin. It had been awhile since he felt the emotion of another.

He sank deeper into the Force. Soon, he found it hard to breath. Somehow his breath had become labored and shallow. He felt a level of anger and hate he had never achieved before. A terrible Darkness. That is when he knew who he felt.

Vader.

Lord Vader must have been truly disheartened to have this emotion ripple throughout the Force. Yoda didn't want to waste this opportunity. A peak into the inner state of the Dark Lord could be quite valuable.

Yoda followed the path of Vader's emotion. He felt isolation, self-loathing, and a relentless sadness. Then he felt craving and worry. The he felt something…feminine. He saw an image of a young woman in Vader's mind. Vader's thoughts were fixed on her. It was consuming him. Yoda felt his need for her affection, but also his need for isolation. He felt Vader's protectiveness for the woman, but also his need to possess her fiercely. Vader feared himself. Feared how he could destroy her.

Then Yoda knew, this was Padme reborn. That could be the only explanation for this obsession. Yoda disconnected with Vader's emotions and brought himself back to his reality. At first he was terrified for the girl, but then his thoughts turned. Maybe this was a blessing. If there was any Light left in Vader, perhaps she could be the one to draw out. Yoda knew Lord Vader had been perusing him and he had been able to hide. But now hiding maybe was a mistake. Maybe he should unearth himself to Vader, lure him. However, he would first have to find this girl. Then the great Dark Lord would face an awesome test of wills.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 **Present Day**

"Just relax. Deep breath through the nose then slowly release it through the mouth."

Pamila was having a hard time concentrating on her new client. He was an older gentleman, skeptical and nervous (though he would never admit it) about his first Reiki Healing session. She would have canceled, but the man's physician had been pushing this man to do this healing for months and he finally agreed (to both Pamila's and the doctor's relief), though she had doubts that he would ever return. He suffered from lower back pain and severe arthritis in both of his knees. Pamila knew the arthritis and the back pain would only feel worse if he didn't start exercising, but she knew it was hard to move with such bad knees. So she tried to make this one of her best healing sessions, but it was hard to concentrate knowing a strange man wearing strange attire was probably still unconscious on her bed.

She tried to push that from her mind. She placed her hands softly on her client's knees, feeling her Chi build. In her mind's eye, she saw he aura gathering Chi from within her and from her surroundings. She saw it rise from the Earth into her feet. She felt it flow in from the Universe to her Crown Chakra. She felt the warm glow of healing energy. She visualized this energy as a pure, glowing, white light flowing from her arms to her hands and into the man's poor knees. Pamila could almost see the light filling in each gap the arthritis had created. Saw it strength all that the illness had made weak. For a moment, she could feel her client's aura glow more brightly then it ever did.

At that moment, she heard the man let out a relieved sigh. Then his face flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out."

Pamila chuckled, "Happens all the time. Just a few more moments and I'll be done."

"No rush," the man smiled back.

Pamila focused a little more energy into the man's knees, then she moved to focus it on the whole body. She stepped back and extended her hands so her palms faced her client. The healing white light in her mind spread across the man's entire aura. It sank into his heart which was full of sorrow and grief. It delved into his mind which had the memories of horrors no one should have to face. After that. She brushed her hands over his aura gently, smoothing out any rough energy. When she was done, she lightly placed her hands on his shoulder, letting him know she was done.

"Just let yourself become centered at your own pace. Do what feels natural. There is no race against time here." She assured the man know gently.

He sucked in a deep breath, bringing himself back to the present. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get used to the light once more. Slowly he sat up and tenderly placed his feet on the floor. Cautiously he stood up, putting weight on his knees. He smiled. He walked up and down the room, beaming from ear to ear. The complete opposite of his expression coming in to the session.

"Well goddamn! That hippie stuff actually works!" he laughed, almost bouncing on his feet.

"So I have been told," Pamila smirked, trying and failing to hide her self-satisfaction.

He kept bouncing and smiling, finally stopping in front of Pamila. "I gotta thank you, Miss. I really thought all this was a bunch a crap. I was wrong. Thank you!"

Pamila gave him a warm smile, "I love this job, so there is no need to thank me."

The man patted around his pockets, reaching for his wallet, "What do I owe you?"

"Nothing at all," Pamila chuckled, putting her hands out as if to block him from handing her anything. "Your insurance covers it, besides," she paused looking at the man's Vietnam Veteran's cap sitting on the table next to her. "Even if it didn't, it would have been Pro Bono."

The man followed her gaze and smiled. He picked up his cap and put it on, a proud smile gracing his face. "Thank you kindly Miss." He turned to leave, but then paused. "Same time next week okay?"

Pamila let out a soft laugh and nodded, "I'll put it on my schedule."

The man left with renewed vigor and vitality in his step. Pamila heard him outside her office calling his wife. He told her how great he felt and asked if he could treat her to a nice dinner that night. Pamila smiled. It was good a good feeling to heal someone both body and soul.

She glanced at her calendar. No other appointments, but she did have plans to volunteer at the animal shelter that afternoon. She thought of the man on her bed. She had been gone too long. He may be more hurt then she realized the night before. She wasn't really thinking straight then. Too much adrenaline pumping through her system.

Pamila picked up her phone and dialed the shelter's number. "Hi, Angie? Hi, this is Pamila. I'm sorry, but I can't make it today. Yeah, personal emergency. No, no I don't know when I'll be able to come in. As soon as I can though, I promise. Okay, see ya soon."

She hung up then rushed to grab her keys, switching off lights, and clearing things up. She locked up her office quickly then hightailed it to her car. Curiosity was bubbling out her. Who was the strange man on her bed?

…. …. ….. …. ….

 _Fire… smoke… Yoda…Padme…spinning…lost control!_

These images flashed through Vader's mind. He felt his consciousness return, forcing him to sit up sharply and heave in a deep breath. Other than that sudden breath, his respirator seemed to be operating normally. He heard his audible breathing, an irritating reminder of failure and handicap. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The mechanics in his hands were functional. He planted his feet on the floor and stood up. Mechanics in his legs functional. And his eyes?

He debated if his optical panels were fully functional.

Before him, he saw flowers in vases, a white cat sleeping on a purple armchair, and saw he had been on a purple floral comforter. So, clearly he was not on any Imperial vessel or base. And based on the array of bright colors and the bra that dangled from a nearby wooden drawer, this was clearly the residence of a woman. Vader surmised he must have crashed and been taken in by a local of some planet next to Dagobah. He found this odd because most of the races and peoples of the Empire feared and loathed him. Brave souls (or foolish) would be the only ones to let him in.

The door leaving the room was open ajar. He went to it. The next room was striking. On the ceiling hung many tiny terrariums full of small green plants and rocks. They were spaced evenly apart and adorned most of the ceiling via small hooks. The rest of the ceiling was covered with a spiral of what Vader guessed was some sort of synthesized vine. It had false purple flower that clung next to face green leaves all attached to a fake vine. This expanded across the whole ceiling, making the small room feel very much like a woodland. Vader also saw some electrically controlled waterfalls and miniature trees planted in pots scattered around the quarters. Some had small fruit, some had delicate, pink blossoms. He heard birds chirping, but he could not locate them. The walls were the color of warm honey, even making Vader feel a sense of warmth and homeliness.

He had seen residences like his before. They were common on Coruscant since it was so heavily populated. Small individual living quarters within a larger building. However, when Vader pushed back the glossy white curtain of a nearby window, he saw he was not in Coruscant. In fact, he didn't recognize it as any planet in the Empire. Signs were lifted high into the air, advertising products Vader did not recognize. Chevron? McDonalds? Blue Boutique? What was this place?

 _She is not in this Universe… yet she is_

He heard his Masters words once more. Pamila, she was not in their galaxy, yet she was. It slowly came back to him. His master's promise, Yoda's taunts, Pamila's picture!

That old fool! That old fool had found a way to send him to her! Yoda had sent him to her world! Vader had no intention of hurting this woman, but Yoda didn't know that.

 _So much for the caring ways of the Jedi!_ Vader scoffed to himself. Yoda was willing to risk the life of an innocent. And for what? To test Vader? To banish him? Regardless, it just proved to Vader how flawed the Jedi Order truly was.

Vader needed to focus. He was in the strange quarters of a strange woman who was most likely quite apprehensive about him. He would need to center himself. His hands trembled slightly. He was nervous. He was…giddy! Vader had not felt this way in years. He shook his head, trying to slow his mind. All he could do now was wait.

He hated waiting.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 _For hardcore Vader fans who don't like seeing him act gently or sentimental, this may not be your favorite chapter or any of the following chapters. This is Vader out of his comfort zone._

Pamila pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. She managed to stay within the speed limit all the way home, but her foot kept twitching with anticipation. Her fingertips drummed annoying beats on her steering wheel. And she became quite the tail-gaiter. Quite unusual for her. After hastily putting her Prius in park and releasing her seatbelt, a silver glint in the backseat showed in her rearview mirror. She leaned over to look for the source. On the floor scrunched up against the seat was a weird silver and black cylinder. Extending her arm down to grab it, it felt surprisingly light in her hand. She sat back up and examined the object. It looked like the handle of an odd flashlight. The man most of had this on his person the other night and she didn't notice. It had a large circular button near the top, just like a flashlight. It might have gotten damaged in her rush to get. She should check to make sure it was still working. She would feel guilty if she broke it. She held out the flashlight to point at the dash.

She pressed the big button . . .

 ** _Shit!_**

A crimson light shot out and impaled her dashboard. She screamed, dropping the still ignited device onto the passenger seat, leaving even more scorch marks on the dash, the passenger side door and seat. She bolted out of her car then leaned against it, resting her head on her arms which were cradled on the roof. Her breath was rickety, high pitch, and just sounding downright terrified.

 _You're being ridiculous!_ She scolded herself.

She sucked in one stabilizing breath and clenched her fists in determination. Hesitantly, she glanced back inside her car. The "flashlight" was still on. It seemed like a steady beam of deadly red light, reminding Pamila of the most terrifying sword in the world! It left horrific burns in her car. Well, this would be interesting to explain to the dealership.

Carefully Pamila stuck her hand back into the car. Luckily, the beam faced away from her. Cautiously, she re-picked it up, feeling the hum of this strange and lethal device. Quickly she slammed her thumb down on the button and with a _whoosh_ heard the blade disappear. She let out a breath she was holding in when she was finally in the clear. She kept it in her hands, took her keys out of the ignition, and closed the door behind her.

Pamila looked around. No one was there. Good. That would've been hard to explain. Although she still had those scorch marks to worry about later. She fiddled with the "flashlight" in her hand, avoiding the button like the plague. She glanced at the building…who the hell was this guy she let stay in her home?

Pamila entered her building. Her legs were like wet noodles beneath her body. With each step she took up the stairs, she felt herself wobble. Well, lately she had been questioning the monotony of her life. Day in and day out the same stale routine. A happy, secure, boring life. Well, she wasn't bored now!

She reached her apartment door. The keys jangled as her hand still shook from shock as she tried to put her key into the deadbolt. She kept messing up, having to twist the key a few more times than she usually did. When she finally unlocked her door, she placed her hand on the knob. She was about to turn it, but she paused. What if he was up? What if he didn't speak her language? She didn't usually believe in aliens, but after the Glow Stick of Death nearly gave her a heart attack, she was open to all sorts of possibilities! Or he could be a serial killer! An alien serial killer! Or worse, he could be the one who did the probing!

Pamila cursed herself, "Oh just shut up and open the door!" she yelled at herself.

She opened it. She tensely stepped into her own home. She didn't see anyone. He was probably still in bed. She sighed. That was a lot of built up anxiety for nothing! However, she had to go in the bedroom at some point. She placed keys on her key hook and made her way to the bedroom. She giggled to herself. It had been awhile since she had a man in her bedroom… and all those rare moments she had been nervous too

She gave herself a little painful pinch. _What the hell is wrong with you? It's not like that you idiot!_

Her bedroom door was open a crack, just the way she left it. She pushed it back. Her bed was empty. Did he leave? Part of her was relieved, but most of her was sad. But at least she didn't have to have an awkward conversation, which is how most of her conversations went.

 ** _Hoool-puur…Hoool-puur…Hoool-puur…_**

"Hello Pamila" A deep voice sounded behind her

She flinched and squeaked at the sound. She shouldn't have, she heard him coming by his breathing, but she was on edge already.

 _Turn around you idiot!_ She ordered herself.

She turned to look at him. When she did, her eyes barely where at his chest. She had to tilt her head up to see his face.

"H-hi…How are you f-feeling?" she slowly formed the words, her body betraying her fear by shaking slightly.

"I am fine. Thank you." He responded with an impossibly deep voice. He gently placed his hands on her arms and moved her to sit on the bed "Sit. You are shaking."

Pamila didn't resist. She let him gently seat her on the bed. Her head was starting to spin.

 _He's the patient,_ a voice said in her head.

It was right. Pamila slowly stood back up. "Hey, **you're** the one **I** found crashed in a … thing. You are the one who needs to sit." She added emphasis by pointing to the bed.

He raised his hands slightly as if in surrender then sat, "As you wish, Pamila"

Pamila's mouth twitched a smile. As you wish along with the mask. It reminded her a bit of _The Princess Bride._

He had said her name.

"How do you know my name?" she asked cautiously, still feeling shaky and woozy.

"I'll get to that in time. But first, I insist that you sit here," he gestured to the spot on the bed next to him. "You are still shaking."

As if answering for her, Pamila's body involuntarily slumped on the bed. She felt so guilty. She was probably offending him with her childish, scared nature.

"Do not worry," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Most people are startled by me. Your reaction is mild compared to some."

"Sorry," she frowned. "I heal people for a living. You'd think I would have a better bedside manner."

"I know you have never encountered anyone like me before," he paused. "There is no one like me." He finished solemnly.

Somehow his sad tone focused her and stopped her shaking. She gently placed a hand on his forearm. His masked head flinched, seeming surprised by the touch. Seeing this, she slowly removed her hand.

"Are you sure you're okay? I didn't know how to help you… I just pushed that button and it seemed to help." She rambled, pointing at the big red switch.

"I am fine, I assure you." He answered. Hesitantly, he placed a gloved hand on her bare one. "You must have questions. Let me answer them."

Pamila's voice turned breathy, "I-I-I did. I mean I do! I j-just can't… form words right now." She admitted shamefully.

He softly rubbed his thumb on her hand comfortingly, "Whenever your ready. I am not going anywhere anytime soon."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He did it. He remained calm and kind towards her. Vader managed to sit Pamila down and put her mind at ease. The suit had made her apprehensive, but soon he could feel that slip from her, being replaced with intrigue and…perhaps a small amount of lust. Vader found that odd, though he could not deny he felt the same way. She had touched him. Gently, lovingly, kindly. It may have been a small touch on his arm, but for the first time in ages, he felt a happy warmth fill his blood. Not the frigid cold that usually filled his veins. It thrilled yet terrified him. Every time something happened that made him happy, two life crippling events tended to follow.

When she was calm, she told him he was on a planet called Earth. She was surprised to hear of the Empire or even that life existed on other planets for that matter. He learned they were in a city called Chicago and that the technology on this planet was at least similar to his…reality. She also returned his lightsaber to him. She called it a flashlight and said she accidently damaged her vehicle with it. He corrected her, but the topic of his weapon seemed to make her nervous once more, so he let the subject shift. She spoke of her job as a healer, her work with animals and the elderly, and her love for living things. Hence all the plants and her cat, Sekhmet. Vader felt the Force was with her, at least more than it ever was with Padme. The Light side. He couldn't help but sigh. How could someone so Light be with someone so Dark?

She was now on an errand for him. She went to get maps of the stars and constellations to see if it may help him get back to the Empire. She had said "Home", but that didn't feel right to Vader. She also went to buy scrap computer parts to see if he could make some communication device or beacon that the Empire could pick up.

However, Vader barely listened to all the words they spoke or the issues they discussed. He just saw her. The waves in her blonde hair. Her shy smile when she looked at him kindly. The twinkle in her sapphire eyes. They way her chest rose with air when he placed his hand on hers. In some ways, he could see Padme in her. Her kindness, her love for life, her need to care for others. But in many ways, she was a person of her own. She was more timid than Padme. More bashful. Vader found this endearing. She was a soft, hesitant, kind light. Vader felt the need to protect her, but also to dominate her. Claim her. Make her his. His kitten. The balm to his ever bleeding wounds. Forever.

"No," he told himself. "Let her live a life without me. That's the only way to keep her safe."

He sensed Pamila. He could feel the heavy bags she carried. He moved from his spot on her sofa and went to the door. He opened it and saw under her arms long tubes of paper and in her hands to cloth bags full of various circuits and wires. Vader's technologically savvy mind was already starting to piece it all together.

"Oh hey," She smiled up at him. Without a word, he held out a hand, offering assistance. Her smile grew as she handed one of the bags full of electronics. "Thanks!" with her now free hand, she held the tubes of paper. She put all the stuff on her kitchen counter with a sigh. "I hope this helps. I am helpless with technology. I'm lucky if I get my email working. I just barely figured out google calendars."

Vader said nothing. He had no knowledge of what she was talking about. He just began sifting through the technological parts she acquired …

" _Uhhh!"_ He groaned. His chest felt sloshy inside and a sharp pain radiated from his heart. He sank to his knees. The sudden impact of the floor against even his mechanical knees made him groan. In an instant, Pamila was by his side. She knelt by him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while she placed her other hand on his chest.

"What's happening?" She asked, her tone despairing.

"I don't…I don't…" He tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come out. His breath became heavy and demanding.

He saw Pamila's eyes scan him, searching for answers. She helped maneuver him into a lying down position, his back resting against her chest, his head leaning on her shoulder. Her voice was light as she cooed assurances to him. Vader wasn't afraid. Part of him hoped he would die in her arms. The most comforting and warm death he could imagine.

Pamila placed both her palms on his chest. She went very quiet. Suddenly, Vader felt the Force build around him. But it wasn't by him, it was by her. He felt the Light seeping into her body. He felt it pulse around her like a heart. As it grew, he felt in envelope him too. He groaned again, but out of pleasure. He felt . . . love, security, serenity, peace.

A warmth grew in her palms. Suddenly, it felt as if a beam of hot light shot through his chest. It hurt, but it was a good pain, like pulling out a splinter. It expanded in his chest to the point he felt Light radiating out of him.

He sucked in a large breath suddenly. The slush that he felt in his chest was gone. His breathing was once again normal. Now all he felt was the warm embrace of a woman who cared. It was a good feeling.

Vader closed his eyes, enjoying the moment.

"Are you okay?" he heard Pamila ask shyly.

He felt her worry, her fear of failure. More importantly, he felt the care she felt for him. The need to help him, to hold him. With a gentleness he had not been able to achieve in years, he placed a hand on one of hers that still grasped his chest. He squeezed it gently, gratefully.

"More than you will ever know." He admitted. A tear rolled down his cheek, hidden by his infernal mask. He held onto her hand, not wanting to let go.

He would not let her go ever again. He would never fail Padme again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 **One Week Earlier**

 ** _This has some more iconic, bad-ass Vader coming up along with Captain Swift. Less "mushy". And I would love to hear from you guys_** ** _J_** ** _. What are your thoughts? Do you like Vader? How about Pamila? What do you want to see more or less of? Of course they say to write like no one will read it, but it would be nice to get some feedback_** ** _J_** **** ** _Please fav, follow, comment, & share _****_J_** **** ** _May the Force be with you._**

Captain Swift sank into the mud again! The stinky gunk seeped in from the tops of his boots and the newly formed holes in the soles. A month in this slimy mud hole and not a trace of the little green bastard! Damn Vader and his witch-hunt!

Swift's storm troopers weren't doing much better. There usually pristine white armor was now muddied and stained. All of them held devices capable of detecting life, but all they managed to find was giant snakes and terrifying birds. Swift missed his clean home, even if it was the impersonal quarters provided for him by the Empire. Still, there he didn't have to worry about blasting huge water snakes before they ate him!

"Sir, we're not picking up any unusual life forms." One of his Commander's stated through his helmet. "Request to head back to base."

Swift clenched his fists. He wanted to go back. No he wanted to desert, but Lord Vader's threat echoed in his mind constantly. He looked back at his small band of troops. Even with their expressions shielded, he could tell they were tired. They were only out here due to their unquestionable loyalty.

Swift sighted, "Commander, you may lead the troops back to the base. I will spend some more time combing the area."

"Are you sure, sir? It's not secure here sir."

"Yes commander. That is my order."

The commander relayed the order and the troops made their way back. Then Swift was in the disgusting swamp all by himself. He straightened himself up, trying to regain the composure befitting an officer of the Empire and continued marching.

 ** _HSSSSS!_**

He whirled around to see the mouth of a large black eel lunging towards him. He ducked but it was too late. The eel clamped down on his shoulder. Swift let out a deafening shrill of pain. He took his blaster out of its holster and shot the beast as much as he could. It shrieked but still had a hold on him. It brought him down to the murky water, making him drop his blaster. Even with all the filth, Swift could still see the blood leaving his body and drifting into the water. He struggled against the eel as it began to wrap its long body around him. He couldn't breathe. He slumped. It was done. His life was ending.

 ** _SPLOOSH!_**

Swift heard something enter the water. He looked up. He could barely make out a figure slithering at the surface. He didn't know what was happening. All he knew for sure is the eel let him go and swam away. Then he felt the sinking. He saw the blood. Then, suddenly, he was being hoisted upwards. Something other thinner than an eel had encircled him and was bringing him to the surface. He sucked in a loud, large breath as he broke through the water. He winced as he realized more fully the searing pain in his shoulder. Whatever had a hold of him now was lugging him to the shoreline. Once there, he saw he had been lassoed by a makeshift rope. Slowly, he stood up, covering up his injured shoulder with one of his hands. He was shaken…and wet… and injured, but he had to try and make it back to base.

"Mmm…terrible you look. Thank me, you should." A voice sounded by Captain Swift. Swift cautiously turned…Yoda. Yoda had saved him. He examined the old Jedi. He was nothing but a small green heap of old, frail, and pathetic bones and muscle.

He eyed Yoda's thin arms, "You? Saved me? I can hardly believe that."

Yoda let out a choking laugh, "Only requirement, size is not, for saving a life. Lack gratitude, you do, and still an officer you have become."

"I will never thank a traitorous Jedi!" Swift spat near Yoda.

Yoda looked at Swift's shoulder, putting the rope down, "Injured, you are. Help you, I will not. Call, I wish you to make."

Swift squinted in confusion as he disentangled himself from the rope, "Call? What call? Call who?"

Yoda laughed again, sounding deranged, "Call who?" he mocked. "Him! Him! The one who sent you here. Darth Vader, it was. Yes?"

Swift swallowed dryly, "Yes."

"Order you to find me, he did! Well, here I am! Call him! Tell him! Show me to him, you will."

"I have no communicator." Swift simply stated. It was the truth.

"Aw," Yoda's eyes widened. "Your lucky day, it is. Borrowed one, I did, from your Empire." Yoda fumbled inside one of his robes pockets, pulling out a holographic communicator. He handed it to Swift, who cautiously took it.

"So, let me get this straight," Swift spoke. "You stole a communicator, turned yourself in, and now you want me to call Lord Vader, the man who wants you dead?"

Yoda laughed once more, "Yes. Confused, are you? Not your business, this is. Be a good soldier. Follow orders. Call him!"

Swift shook his head, "No, this is some sort of trick! I won't fall prey to your Jedi devilry."

With a sudden outburst of energy, Yoda leapt from his rock, cane in hand. He landed on Swift's bad shoulder, making him groan in pain. Yoda then proceeded in beating him over the head with his cane. "Call him! Call him!"

"Alright! Alright!" Swift hollered, barely managing to enter Vader's communication frequency while being bashed over the head. "I'm calling. Happy?"

"Yes."

…. …. …. …. ….

Vader was finishing up "negotiations" with some bounty hunters on the _Executor._ Unsatisfied that his Master had sent him on such a menial assignment, he marched with a fury down the hall to his quarters. The communicator on his belt let off a beep, infuriating him further. He unattached it from his belt and answered it. An image of a disheveled Captain Swift emerged before him.

"You better be ready to provide me with that accurate report, Captain." Vader warned harshly.

"Y-yes, my lord. Well, sort of…"

"I am not interested in 'sort of", Captain." Vader pinched his index and thumb together, making Swift grab at his throat in desperation. "I promised you a fate worse than death if you failed me."

Swift was gagging, yearning for air. He clawed at his throat. The image satisfied Vader. Then a familiar voice sounded.

"Fail you, he has not. Too quick to judge, you are!" Yoda appeared in the hologram now, clambering up the captain's arm.

"Yoda," Vader stated solemnly.

"Darth Vader," Yoda retorted. "Not always the case. Long ago. Old and ugly, I may be. But more ugly have you become! Come! Come! Catch me! Find me!" Yoda paused, his smiling face turning serious. "Ani."

Vader released Swift from his hold. He almost shifted it to his old teacher, but that was not satisfying enough. He needed to face him in person. Cause him pain. To ensure the weak and decimated Jedi master was gone for good. He needed to crush his bones in his hands

"I will." Vader replied


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 **Two Days Earlier**

"This is unusual, Lord Vader. I am the one who usually summons you."

Darth Vader knelt obediently at the base of a larger than life holo-image of his Master. Vader did not normally call upon his Master, but this was important, "Forgive me, my Master, but this is of great importance."

The Emperor sniffed, looking disinterested, "What is it you require Lord Vader?"

"Permission, Master. Former Master Yoda has come out of hiding. He…revealed himself to me. He has requested that I come to Dagobah and . . . kill him."

This peeked Palpatine's interest. He raised an eyebrow and corners of his mouth twitched a smile, "Requested to be killed? My, my! How fascinating. So, you wish for me to grant you permission to abandon the duties I have set for you and destroy the traitor?"  
Vader suddenly felt like a small child being scolded by a father, "In the interest of the Empire, my Master." He tried to answer humbly.

As if he sensed Vader's discomfort, the Emperor flashed a full smile, "It could be a trap. I doubt the old Jedi has relinquished all of his tricks. However, you have grown strong, my faithful apprentice. Perhaps stronger than Master Yoda, as I have foreseen for many years. Now maybe the time to test your strength and skill," Sidious paused, leaning back as if he was in a chair. His eyes danced, as if he was gazing at something, staring hard at it. Then his head shook slightly, as if waking from a dream. "Permission granted." He said finally. "But be cautious, my friend. I can't afford to lose you. After all, there is no other Chosen One."

Lord Vader informed Captain Piett to set course for Dagobah. He was in his meditation chamber when he felt the thrum of the Star Destroyer entering light-speed. It helped him sink into the Force, helped him collect his rage, enough rage to destroy the feeble old Jedi.

This would be a day long remembered. It would soon see the end of Yoda, a Jedi who had outlived his utility for many centuries. His death would be a fatal blow against what scattered Jedi remained. The Sith would once again be proved to be more powerful than the Jedi ever were.

Yet Vader remained unsatisfied. With Yoda gone, his rage would not be dampened. His anger would still eat at him, contort him from the inside. The Sith needed rage, needed hate to be powerful. Vader knew this, but he hated his hatred, feared his anger. He craved peace. But monsters don't get peace, so he yearned for the next best thing. He longed for Death.

"My lord, we have reached the Dagobah system." Captain Piett's hesitant voice broke Vader's silence in the chamber intercom. "Shall I have your Interceptor prepped?"

"Yes," Vader responded. "Good work, Captain."

"Thank you, my lord."

Vader depressurized his chamber, lifting the hatch with the Force. His Lightsaber hooked securely to his belt, he made his way to the hanger bay. He strode down the halls of the _Executor_ with a renewed sense of power and vigor, trying to forget about his moment of doubt. Entering the hanger, he found that his prized Interceptor was fuelled and flight ready. The hatch to the cockpit was even open, as if inviting him in.

Every stormtrooper and Imperial officer in his path saluted him, giving him silent encouragement. He climbed up the portable stairs that let him access his fighter. Once in, with a wave of his hand, he sent the stairs rolling backwards. He sealed the hatch and began the launching sequence. The crew in the bay backed away from the Dark Lord's ship, constantly amazed by his skills in flying. Without a thought, he flew seamlessly out of the bay and into the vacuum of space. He gradually dipped down toward the swampy planet. Swift had sent him no coordinates of where to meet, but Vader knew exactly where to go. He let the Force guide his hands on the controls, let it affect his movements, the pitch and yaw of his fighter. He trusted the Force.

He entered the atmosphere, sending the landing clearance code to the nearest base. He was making his way into the densest part of the nearest swamp. Then he felt it. Felt him. Yoda. Up ahead, he saw a small clearing, barely large enough for his Interceptor, but it would have to do. This is where Yoda wanted him to be. He quickly landed and exited his ship. The mud splashed on his boots at he landed on the ground, but he didn't care. Soon, hopefully all of his clothes would be dripping with blood.

The forest was thick and dark, but his eyepieces in his mask allowed him to see in the darkest night. He began to walk forward. To where exactly, he didn't know, but Yoda would be there. There Lord Vader would bring the Jedi master the peace of Death.

The local fauna of the swamp gave Vader a wide birth. Normally ravenous beasts cleared the area in the presence of the Dark Lord. That was good. No distractions. The path Vader was on finally cleared and showed its destination. It led to a small hut. A pathetic hovel. Vader stared at it. He saw lights from a fire flickering in the round windows, smoke rising from a makeshift chimney. The rain began to pour. Out front, Vader could see Captain Swift shivering in the cold, bound and gagged. The sight amused Vader. When he reached the hut, he didn't even glance at the useless officer, instead he stood akimbo in front of the hut, waiting.

"Master Yoda, I am here." He said plainly in his deep voice.

The simple wooden door opened. The wrinkled green Jedi emerged, a smile gracing his face. "You're late. Days it has been. Thought you forgot about me, I did. Kept your food warm. Good food, good food! Yes. Come eat," He paused, looking at Vader's masked mouth. "Oh wait, eat you cannot. Rude of me to offer, it was."

Vader remained unfazed, "I have not come to discuss my dietary habits." With that, he grasped his Lightsaber in his right hand and ignited it.

Yoda's smile fell. He sighed and nodded. "Yes, I know. Know more than I think you do. Know of the conflict you feel now. Hate yourself, you do. Other things I know too. Like Pamila. Your Emperor's promise. Keep it, he never will. Fail you, he always will."

"What?" Vader whispered faintly, feeling ice in his blood again. He blinked, setting himself straight. "Stop stalling old man. I give the option to die a warrior's death. Pick up your weapon. If you don't, you will simply die a weak fool."

Yoda shifted his robe a bit, exposing the long unused Lightsaber at the side of his hip, "So be it, _Lord_ Vader."

They leapt at each other, their weapons blazing in full fury. Yoda flipped over his head, trying to compensate for his small stature. Vader remembered his fighting style well. He easily blocked the old masters attempt to cut of his head. With the added power of his cybernetic arms, his block against Yoda's Lightsaber sent the green man flying. He landed hard against the trunk of a large tree. But he quickly recovered, jumping a swirling around Lord Vader, trying to find any opening. It was a waste of time. Vader deflected him each time with ease. Yoda body twisted in the air while all Vader had to do was move his wrists and arms. Stupid old fool.

Suddenly, Yoda sprinted away from Vader. He quickly unearthed a hidden speeder, jumping in it and speeding away. Furious, Vader got into his Interceptor. He set it to fly low, managing to avoid the trees, blasting those he couldn't. It didn't take long to catch up with Yoda's ancient speeder. Yoda dodged the blasts, but Vader was focused and determined. As his eyes remained focused on the speeder, Vader felt his head get foggy. He felt like something was being crammed into his mind. Swirls of light danced in his eyes. Like the cosmos all lined up in his head. He heard a laugh. A delicate giggle. Feminine and soft. He saw Padme's face. He smiled at her. It morphed to Pamila's. He tried to focus. Yoda, the speeder, he needed to disable it. But he could no longer feel the controls in his hand. He couldn't feel the trigger or sense the world around him. He felt like he was suspended in some oblivion. A space between spaces.

 _A chance I give you Ani_ , he heard Yoda's voice in his mind. _Chance to love and be loved. Free yourself from darkness, Anakin. Find the strength to embrace the light. Be brave and love._

With that, Vader felt in control once more, but now he was barreling down in an atmosphere his ship's scanners did not recognize. He was spinning out, heading for a grey bricked building. He had not control. No hope of avoiding collision.

He crashed. He felt the smoke and saw the fires start around him. His vision began to blacken and he couldn't breathe. He blacked out, but came too. Only for a moment, but that was enough. Enough to see a warm face looking upon him, a gentle hand reaching for him, ready to pull him from hell.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 **Present Day**

Night had fallen in Chicago. After his collapse, Vader felt better ever since Pamila placed her hands on his chest and healed him. Now she was in the kitchen cleaning dishes that were in the sink and he had begun tinkering with the supplies she brought. He asked her how she had healed him with a simple touch, she simply shrugged and said it was complicated and that he would think she was crazy.

Vader placed his hands on his hips, not liking being denied. "I am open minded. Try me."

Pamila gave him a slightly stunned look, but complied "Like I told you before, I consider myself a bit of a holistic healer. Reiki, Pranic healing, crystals, and all that jazz. I use energy called chi to help people heal. I can feel it. In me, in others, in the world. Technically everyone can access it, but I always have been . . . highly attuned to it, you could say."

Vader nodded but said nothing. This chi sounded a lot like the Force, simply a different name. If Pamila had lived in his galaxy, the Jedi would have recruited her early. She probably would have been trained as a Jedi healer who would most likely reside in the Temple, rarely leaving its sacred halls. The thought made him shiver. If she had been a Jedi, he would've been forced to kill her.

"Why didn't you think I would believe that?" He inquired tenderly, trying to ignore his tortured thoughts.

She stopped scrubbing the bowl she had been working on and stared off into the distance. She placed it back in the sink and dropped the cloth onto the counter, "I don't know." She said finally. "I guess I am used to people not believing me and calling me crazy. Always thinking it is made up nonsense or a con. Especially my family." She paused again, her hands beginning to tremble. She looked down and grasped her own hands, trying to still them. "They thought I would never make a living with it and that I was mentally incompetent, even had me institutionalized at one point after I healed a bird who had died moments before. Thought I was possessed by a demon. It just made me want to prove them wrong." She stopped, turning to look at Vader. She looked sad as small tears welled in her eyes, but he could tell she was trying to hide it with a false smile. "Sorry, I don't know why I just told you that."

Vader placed his work down on a nearby table and moved toward her. He stood by her, his masked eyes peering at her wandering ones. She looked up at him, her fake smile fading, being replaced with genuine intrigue. Once she realized she was staring at him, she looked down and began to turn away. He gently grabbed her arm, stopping her. He turned her back, placing a black leather finger under her chin, making her meet his gaze again.

"I do not think you're crazy." He assured her. He saw her blue eyes search his face for any sign of deception, but of course she couldn't find any. Vader felt her lean ever so slightly toward him, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Thank you," she barely breathed. They stayed that way for many breaths. He could have stayed that way forever. It had been a lifetime since someone didn't look at him like he was monster to be feared.

Unfortunately, she broke the moment. Her eyes shifted to a window. "Oh, it got dark fast!" She glanced up at him. "Are you tired? Oh, are you hungry…oh wait, can you eat? Or maybe you don't need to eat. Oh, it's not any of my business, is it? I just have never met anyone like you and well, you're not exactly talkative. At least with other people, I'm pretty good at guessing what they need at the time, but with you, complete blank! I have no clue. I don't know space people. I didn't even know there was space people! Do you want to go to sleep? You can have my bed, I am not stranger to the couch. At first I only had the couch….." Pamila kept on rambling. She was nervous. Vader felt her fear that she had offended him. Afraid he would lash out in anger. He wasn't offended, only curious about this frantic creature in front of him.

"Pamila," his deep voice silenced her rapid one. Her eyes were wide, fearful. He placed a hand softly on her cheek. "You worry too much. It is not a healthy habit. Learn to channel your fear for a better purpose."

The water that had gathered in her eyes began to disappear. She gave a small nod of agreement. He removed his hand from her face, but gripped her shoulders gently. "I will be working through the night. I rarely sleep or eat. You, on the other hand, should sleep."

He felt her annoyance of being told what to do. In a huff, she placed her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to protest, "I'm not even tired." No sooner did the words come out of her mouth, so did a large yawn.

Vader nodded, "Yes I can see that." He snarked.

"That was just a coincidence" she protested again.

He ignored her childish excuses, "If you are not tired, why don't you sit with me for a moment? I might need your knowledge. Some of these mechanisms are foreign to me." That was a lie. It was all incredibly straight forward for Vader, but he found her presence soothing and maybe the repetitive movements of his hands working would lull her to sleep. He wanted her to get bored and drift off.

She looked at him doubtfully. It seemed like she called his bluff, but didn't say anything. "Lead the way, Lord Vader."

"Just Vader for you, Pamila." He stated.

She gave him a small smile, looking away, her cheeks turning rosy. "Okay."

Vader liked this. He liked when was comfortable with him. When he didn't feel her mind constantly trying to figure him out. He loved when she blushed. She was clearly enjoying his company. Vader decided to keep going with this gentle, subtle, yet charming approach. It was something he was out of practice with, but he was willing to try anything to help her feel safe near him.

Vader held up his arm, offering for her to take it. Her blush deepened as she shyly linked her arms with his. He smiled to himself when he also saw her bite her lower lip.

He gently led her to the couch, setting her beside him. Once he was situated, he picked up the beacon he had been working on. The beacon was almost done, just a few more components to install. It matched a homing beacon commonly used by the Empire, but the problem wasn't if it would work. It was if there was any station or transmission in the reality that could carry the signal to the Empire. He didn't want to admit it, but he hoped the signal would fall upon deaf ears. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to be out of Palpatine's reach. More importantly, he wanted Pamila out of that vindictive man's grasp.

He went back to work once Pamila leaned back on the couch. Her eyelids kept closing, then quickly re-opening once she realized she was drifting. As he cleaned circuits and connected fibers, she curled her legs up underneath her and rested completely on the back of the sofa. Finally, her eyes closed and remained closed. All Vader heard was the softness of her breath. He smiled to himself. _Not tired indeed._ He continued with his project. After a few more minutes, he felt a weight upon his shoulder. He glanced over and saw a sea of blonde waves. She had rested her head upon his shoulder. He reached out with the Force, trying to see if she had done this intentionally, but he couldn't tell. He just felt her fatigue.

Vader glanced back at the beacon. It was basically done. He could take a break. Vader wasn't much of a gambling man, but he decided to take a risk that night. He put his work down, then leaned back on the sofa, carefully moving Pamila so not to wake her. He laid her head on his chest, letting her hand rest there. She let out a small, happy sounding coo, but she was still asleep. Her lips formed a smile. Satisfied by even her unconscious reaction, he allowed himself to hold her tightly to him. Now he sighed. It was a feeling long forgotten, but now that he once again could hold a kind woman to him, he never wanted to let go. He would not fail her. He would protect her. Even if it meant eventually breaking her heart.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 **Present Day: Dagobah System**

The Imperial shuttle docked within the _Executor_ , its side panels folding down. The platform descended, showing four guards in blood red uniforms. They held their staves gallantly as they exited the shuttle, lining up in front of it along with a garrison of stormtroopers and imperial officers, awaiting their master. The click of the dark walking stick was audible upon the metal platform. Soon the Emperor emerged. He smiled internally as he saw a trembling Captain Piett in front of him along with an even more petrified Captain Swift. A man once overflowing with arrogance now humbled to a state of groveling.

Sidious had planned this exact moment weeks before. He had seen it all. Vader's doubt, Yoda's plan, their confrontation, and even Vader going missing, seeing him travel through the Universe to the embrace his Twin Flame. A week ago he informed Captain Piett to let him know when the _Executor_ lost contact with Vader.

"Is Lord Vader planning on deserting?" Piett had asked.

"Assuredly not Captain. I just wish to know if and when he fails to contact you."

Piett had been flummoxed, but of course agreed.

Now they were meeting again and a look of astonishment paired with fear in Piett's eyes. Palpatine formed his face into a comforting smile as he reached the captain. "I received your report Captain Piett. I appreciate your need for efficiency."

"Of course, my lord," Piett bowed.

The Emperor then turned to Swift, his smile turning into an expression of disgust. "You, on the other hand Captain Swift . . . we will have to think hard about your future in the Imperial Navy. One of the greatest assets of the Empire missing on your watch? Disgraceful." Swift said nothing and simply looked away in shame. Smudges of mud from the swamp still hid behind his ears.

"My lord," Piett began to speak again while slowly walking beside the old Emperor. "We have prepared the coordinates of Vader's last known location and are currently forming an investigative team to be sent there."

"That won't be necessary, my dear captain. My royal guards will escort me to that location. I have no need for anymore assistance."

Piett gave him a surprised look, mouth agape, but quickly closed it and remained silent.

"You disapprove," Palpatine stated, not asked.

Piett began to shake his head, "No my lord. I am only concerned. Vader is important to the Empire, but I do not wish for your safety to be jeopardized."

"Your concern is noted captain. For now, show me to the conference quarters. My advisors and I must discuss pressing issues."

"Yes my lord."

"And Captain Piett," the Emperor stopped walking, glancing back at Swift. "Captain Swift is now in the custody of my Royal Guards. They will take out the trash."

... ... ...

She felt so warm. It was a very good warmth. Friendly, safe, and inviting. Like the first pleasant spring day of the year when she would lay in a grass field, changing the clouds to be whatever she wanted. She didn't want this feeling to end.

 ** _Hoool—Puur…Hoool-Puur . . . Hoool—Puur_**

Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled.

 _Vader_

The man she rescued barely more than a day was holding her as she slept. Her head was carefully tucked under his armored chin, his leather arms encircled her to his chest. God he was irresistible! Things were just going so fast, like a summer haze. First he was unconscious, then when he woke she could barely talk in front of him, now they had slept together on her couch.

 _Poor choice of words!_ Pamila criticized herself. _It was only sleep._

She shifted her weight a little. When she did, the arm around her tightened, securing its hold on her. She snuck a peek at his face. Was he asleep? Or was he simply being quiet? She didn't mind his mask or suit, since she guessed it was a requirement for him (he never did explain). However, it would be nice to get some sort of reading from this mystery man! She even tried reading his aura, but for some reason she couldn't. It felt like something was blocking her. Maybe him. She didn't know. At least with his arm around her, it was safe to assume he didn't hate her guts.

Her fingertips traced the edges of his leather chest plate. So strong, so gallant, so dignified. Like some futuristic knight in shining armor. Even with a sword. It definitely could beat the crap out of her car.

She was enjoying herself as she moved her hand slowly back and forth, enjoying the coolness of the leather. She felt a squeeze on her shoulder.

"Are you awake?" his deep voice asked.

She let out a light laugh, "Maybe."

Pamila felt his head move to look at her, "Maybe? Is there some doubt?"

She nodded, still not moving away from him. "I don't know how all this can be real." She cursed herself after she said that. She had said too much. It would probably scare him off. Freak him out with her assumption of friendliness.

Instead, he gave her another squeeze then let his hands travel softly up and down her arm. "Neither do I," he finally responded. "However, I hope that it is and . . ." he paused again. She could feel him tense up for a moment as if suddenly afraid. "I like to think that you share this hope."

He was still rigid. Pamila smiled a bit. She thought she was supposed to be the nervous one. The thought of him being able to be nervous made her melt. Now she just wanted him to relax.

"Yes, I do." She stated. With this declaration, she wanted to admit more to him. Admit her feelings and to hear him say his. She moved gently from his arms to sit up and look at him. She was about to speak when he placed an index finger tenderly on her lips.

"Please, not yet," is all he said. He wasn't harsh or demanding, just solemn. She smiled at him and nodded.

The device from the night before caught her eye. She gingerly lifted it from the coffee table. "What is this?" She asked sleepily, moving back to lean against him. Vader picked it up nicely from her hands, as if inspecting it.

"It's a beacon. It is used by the Empire. If set to the right frequency, they may be able to detect the signal."

"You hope they can detect it?"

Vader paused for several breaths, "That isn't what I said."

She tried to ignore his cryptic response. "Is it on now?" she asked.

"Not yet."

She nodded, "The Empire you speak of you… it needs you, right?

He went silent again then reluctantly answered, "It would be challenging to find another to take my position."

She nodded. What was his position? Did she dare ask? She looked at her kitchen clock. 7:30 in the morning. She had to get ready.

"Speaking of job positions, I gotta go to work." She told him sadly. He said nothing. He sat there has she moved away from him to her bedroom door. She was closing it when a loud THUMP sounded.

"Oh hell, not again! The damn hinges! And I can't change in the bathroom. It's freezing in there."

Vader walked over and inspected the door frame. He saw the problem right away. "I'll fix it."

Pamila got a bit flustered, "Well, you could fix it while I change really fast. But don't look!" she warned, half hoping he did

"I am a man of honor," he responded.

... ... ...

Vader found longer screws that could dig deeper into the wood frame. With drill in hand, he aligned the hinges and began his work. He could fix it quickly, but then Pamila started to change, slipping her trimmed body out of tight fitting clothes.

He looked back at his next project. He was going take his time for the most optimal results. It may be more complicated than he thought . . .


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 **Present Day: Dagobah**

 ** _Sorry, this may be of a boring short chapter :P Just more of an explanation than a chapter. Some references from the Darth Plagueis book by James Luceno. Hope you like it! More action will come soon I promise, especially from Vader. Thanks for the support!_**

The forest was overflowing with energy. It was thick with the Force. It radiated from the ground, the trees, the water, even his Royal Guards. Sidious reveled in the Force around him, but even more importantly, the fact that he owned it. He owned it all and could destroy it on a whim. It pleased him. His guards would shoot themselves on a word if he so desired. But now was not the time to enjoy himself…at least not completely. In this swamp of life, he was honing in on the only one that mattered, Yoda. He required a conversation with the old Jedi. He needed answers.

Then he heard it.

The tell-tale sound of an ignited lightsaber.

"AW!" An aged scream echoed against the trees. Flashes and strokes of green light flew in the air. His guards tried to ready the vibroblades and blasters. One didn't even have time to place his hand on the trigger. His hand detached from his arm in a trail of smoke and terrible screams. The light coming back around the finish off his head. His decapitated body sunk to its knees, then to the ground. The other three guards managed to grab their blasters, opening fire on the Jedi master. With great skill, Yoda spun his blade. The blaster bolts bounced back, hitting two of the Emperor's guard's square in the chest. Yoda lunged for Palpatine and the remaining guard flung himself in front of Palpatine, absorbing the blade into his own body. His body fell backwards with Yoda standing on his chest. The Emperor applauded.

"Good, very good! What a delightful little display. Two decades has clearly not dulled your skill."

Before he could continue, Yoda launched himself toward him again. Sidious saw this and easily pushed him back with a strong jolt of Force Lightning. "Oh come now Master Yoda, let's not be tiresome. Haven't we already established our stalemate in the Rotunda? I am the unstoppable force to your unmovable object. Besides, all I wish is a conversation."

Now Yoda began to laugh, "Miss your lapdog, do you? Didn't see that coming, I expect."

"You'd expect wrong then, master Jedi. I foresaw long ago your plan. You felt my apprentice's long pent up desires spilling through as I did. You thought it would be a perfect opportunity to help him, change him back into a 'decent' man. Or just to banish him at the least. No, I have not come here to admire your cleverness. I have come for logistics. I want to know how…How did you find the girl? How did you access that part of the Universe?"

Yoda was silent. His eyes roamed over Palpatine, trying to read him. Then he spoke, "Not asking on Vader's behalf, I think. The girl you want. Your eye has been on her for a while. Answer me why, then I will answer you."

Palpatine made a gesture with his hands that conveyed acceptance then leaned against a tree smugly, "She would serve me in many ways. Least of all to test Lord Vader's conviction and loyalty. She has a kind heart. A heart that can elicit sympathy from others. I have been the head of the Empire. Lord Vader and Governor Tarkin are the fists. My vast navy and troops the body. That has served and helped this Empire grow for many years, but still the Rebels gain victories. They gain sympathy as the years go by. So I need a controlled heart. A bleeding heart I can put on a leash to snare the populace and destabilize the rebels cause. She will comfort them as she will comfort Vader. The only trick is presenting her to the Empire in the right way." Palpatine winked, his mouth twisting into a demonic smile. "Head, body, fists, and now a heart on a chain. My chain."

"Someone to hold the hands of those you stab in the back, hmm?" Yoda inquired.

Palpatine nodded, "Crude but accurate." Sidious began to curve his fingers into claws, taking his Force Lightning stance, "Now answer mine. How did you gain access to that part of the Universe? And don't refuse me. I will kill innocents in front of your eyes until you break. The old, children, women, none will be safe from my rage."

Yoda's eyes grew and filled with unshed tears at the thought of innocent lives being brutally murdered. He sighed, summoning his walking stick, and leaning upon it. Sidious smirked. He had won.

"They are connected," Yoda spoke. "Vader and Padme's soul. Entwined they have always been. A thread of the Force. Vader's recent longing for her illuminated the thread. Meditated on this thread I did, let it guide me. Found the girl you covet. When Vader found me, connected the tread to his grief I did. Enough power to bypass space. Enough to overcome all hurtles. With her he is now. Two halves of the whole together again. No thread here anymore. Now all with her. Able to track them down, you may not. No connection to guide you."

Palpatine thought to himself for a moment, quickly leaving Yoda in the swamp. What connection could lead him to Vader and Pamila? Then he thought of his old master Darth Plagueis. He talked about how the Force strikes back. That his manipulation of life and midiclorians would one day have to be balanced out by the Force. Palpatine had long entertained the thought that Plagueis inadvertently created Anakin. The Force was Anakin's father. So perhaps the best way to track him was through the bond of father and son.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

Breathe…Breathe…Breathe…Relax…Relax

That's what Pamila kept repeating to her clients today. It was getting so redundant. Of course she smiled at them and was genuinely friendly. They were all nice people and she enjoyed helping them, but she kept getting distracted when she kept feeling Vader's arm around her. A ghost of a feeling. God knows she didn't want to go to work today, but what excuse could she give. _Uh sorry guys, but I want to spend more time cuddling a dude I barely met who wears strange armor and has respiratory problems. Sorry for the inconvenience._ She shook her head. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Lunch came fast. No appointment was scheduled for an hour and a half. Now she wished she had a home phone. She was the silly teenage girl who wanted to call her crush. There were so many questions left unanswered. How did he know her name? She just realized he never did explain that. Why was he in the suit? What was the suit? Was it medical or an extreme fashion choice? Why is he a lord? What was the Empire like? What does he really do for the Empire? With a weapon like that "lightsaber", she doubted it was bringing sweet little school kids their milk and cookies. Did he cut of the head of holistic healers who ask themselves redundant questions? For her sake, she hoped not.

"Pamila Jenkins, this is Officer Collins from CPD. Are you in?"

She never even heard him knock on the door. Shit! Why was he here? It had to be about Vader. _Be calm, be calm! Only speak when asked a question and keep your answers short!_ She told herself. She hastily moved from her desk chair to the door. She opened it and saw a tall, square jawed officer in front of her. He was imposing, but nowhere near Vader's level. If she could deal with Vader, she could handle him.

"Oh, I'm sorry officer. I didn't hear you knock. Must have drifted off." _Smooth._

Pamila was close to his height but he still had to turn his gaze downward to look at her, "I just have a few questions Ms. Jenkins."

"What about?"

"Your car was spotted via surveillance camera near the site of an . . . incident. You were then spotted entering the building of said incident, but eventually smoke blocked the camera's view and we never see you exit. Could you explain that miss?"

 _The best way to lie is to cover it with some truth._ "Oh yes that was horrible. I was just coming back from grocery shopping when I see smoke coming from the warehouse. I pulled over and rushed in, but like you said, there was so much smoke. I couldn't see a thing. I couldn't breathe, so I made my way back out and left. I felt guilty that I didn't stay longer in case there was anyone hurt, but what good would I be dead from smoke inhalation." _That sounded good enough._

He stared at her as if looking for any signs of lying. She just kept smiling at him, leaning against the doorframe casually. He started to speak again, "So you have no idea about what caused the smoke?"

She let out a fake flirtatious smile, "Well, I may be a blonde, but I know smoke usually follows fire. As to what caused a fire, I'm afraid I can't help you. I'm no fireman"

The officer gave a smile back, "A cute blonde indeed. Why didn't you report to the police after?"

Pamila allowed herself to let out a helpless feminine sigh. "I was so frazzled after I got out. It was quite an ordeal. Besides, I heard sirens coming," She rested her head playfully on the frame. "I'm sorry if I was a pain officer. Perhaps I can make it up to you. You could come in for…treatment. Free of charge." Oh, she hated saying that. She just wanted him to go away and leave her alone. Being extremely flirty may be the best way for him to leave.

He blushed and looked away. "No thank you, miss. Still on duty. Just gotta track down every lead, you know. Well, thank you. I think that's about all I needed to know."

She placed her hand on the door, a smile still plastered to her face, "It was nice meeting you, Officer Collins." And with that, she quickly closed the door. Once it was closed and she was sure he left, she let out a huge sigh and sunk to the floor in relief. God that was terrifying! Now she really had to look over her shoulder. Maybe he bought her story, but he could just be as easily waiting to tail her. Did she really seem suspicious? She was an avid volunteer and had no criminal record, could they really think her capable of wrong doing? Technically, no crime was committed when she rescued Vader, she was just being a Good Samaritan. It's not like she held up a 7-ll or anything!

Another knock came from the door. She jumped. Cautiously she went to open it. It was just her next client. She smiled widely and welcomed the woman in with genuine happiness. God knows she needed a distraction right now. It was time to go back to work.

….. … ….. … …..

Vader did not like being cooped up. He was nearly done with the beacon, but he kept putting it off. He didn't really want to activate it. The only reason he would is out of a sense of loyalty to his Master. It didn't change the fact that he didn't want the Empire to catch the signal. He hoped it would reach dead space and never be found by anyone. He wanted to stay here, even if he was becoming restless after being forced to look at the same four walls. However, he knew all the reasons why he had to stay put and he kept reminding himself of them. The local authorities were most likely looking for him, he would stick out in this world, and it would get Pamila in a lot of trouble if people found out she harbored him. Still, the reasons did nothing to expel his pent up energy.

"Dude, hurry up! Just pick the damn lock!" A voice whispered behind the apartment door.

"Shut the hell up! I'm hurrying." Another voice protested.

On instinct, Darth Vader summoned his saber from his belt while his body assumed a fighting stance. He heard clicking from the door locks. The would-be thief's had successfully unlocked it. Vader's thumb was practically twitching to ignite his blade. Criminal scum always angered him, but now he was in a fiery rage over criminals breaking into his Pamila's home. He moved to wait by where the door would open so he would be hidden by the newly open door. When the door opened, he moved behind it, waiting for the right moment.

Two white males entered, both wearing dark clothing. They held what looked like blasters in their hands and knives concealed at their belts. One saw Pamila's cat.

"Boo!" He hollered, sending Sekhmet scampering away.

"Look at this place man! All these plants, it's like a forest."

"I bet yoga teacher or something." The other responded. Vader was tired of lingering in the shadows. He pushed the door aside. It creaked, alerting the intruders to his presence. It closed with an ominous click. The burglars spun around, weapons ready to fire.

"The residence you have broken into is the home of a healer, if you care to know. She is kind, not despicable like you." Vader spoke. The young men jumped at the sound of his deep almost feral voice.

"Who the—what the hell are you?" they both asked in unison.

For a while Vader was silent. He let his breathing fill the room. Then as, if answering the question, he ignited his lightsaber.

"A friend."

The men opened fire. The blasts were metal, not lasers. That made little difference. They disintegrated on impact with the heated blade. Vader moved towards them despite their futile attempts to kill him. When he was close enough to strike them down, he hesitated. Pamila. What would Pamila think when she found two dead men killed by his blade? Criminals or not, he could see the horror in her eyes at the thought of him as a killer.

With that in mind, he changed his approach. With a spin of his saber, he knocked the weapons from their hands, leaving them scorched and broken on the floor. The boys backed away from him, tripping over the legs of the coffee table. The fell on their backs with a groan. Vader took advantage of this. With one hand, he focused the Force around both their throats. He lifted them from the floor and dangled them in air. They clawed at their throats, trying to figure out what invisible hand held them. Vader controlled his Force grip. It was meant to hurt them, but not kill them. He then summoned the Force into his voice to command the weak fools.

"You _will_ leave this place and ** _never_** return. You will tell _no one_ of anything that has transpired here today. All you will remember is trying to pick the lock and that you **_failed_**!"

Once he was done speaking, his saw the boys' eye's glaze over, a sign that the Force in his words were taking effect. Seeing his work sinking in, he let the boys go. They got to their feet and scurried out the door. Their memories in the process of being rearranged. Vader deactivated his blade and reattached it to his belt. He picked up the intruders broken weapons, placed them in an empty box, and shoved them way in the back of Pamila's chaotic closet. It would be forever before she found them and by then he would have found a way to dispose of them.

Lord Vader moved back to the coffee table. In their fall, the intruders had smashed his beacon. He should have been enraged. He should have tracked them down and killed them. Instead Darth Vader smiled. Now he had to start from the beginning once more. More time, more peace, more Pamila.

Sekhmet meandered over to Vader and proceeded to rub her cheek against his boot, making soft meowing sounds. Vader smiled to himself hoping that Pamila would see the trust her pet had in him. He carefully picked the cat up, holding her for a moment.

"Yes Sekhmet. Looks like I have been delayed here for a little while longer."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

 ** _Hey guys! This is just kind of a feels, filler chapter with not a lot of new info or action. Sorry, writers block and a cold has killed my brain. Vader probably won't seem very "Vader-y". But my plans for upcoming chapters are more interesting, I promise ( & hope). Also, I want to take this moment to thank everyone who has followed, favorited, and commented on this story! Especially Mystic Fire! Only 2 months published and already this much support?! I am very fortunate indeed. It's nice to get encouragement. Makes me feel good as an aspiring novelist (One day: fingers crossed). Thank you all so so so much! Have a marvelous day!_**

Her hands shook as she clamped them down on the steering wheel. Pamila's eyes kept dashing back and forth to her review mirror. It was full-on paranoia. Every time a car turned when she did, her heart pounded. It was just in her head. None of the drivers looked like that officer and no one ever went the same route she did for very long.

She tried going over the facts one more time. She wasn't a criminal. She had no record. People in the community knew her to be a volunteer, a healer, and an overall good person. She was hardly worthy to be at the top of the police's suspect list…well, except maybe the charred interior of her car. Still, she couldn't shake an uneasy feeling that something horrible had happened. She felt…danger. Was Vader in trouble? Maybe he was becoming sick again! God, she felt so horrible inside. Maybe nothing bad happened, but something was coming. Something big! Bigger than Vader crashing on Earth. She didn't know how or why she knew, she just did. And she was rarely wrong. Her insides felt suddenly cold like when she heard Lord Vader's breath for the first time, but much worse.

Pamila shook it off the best she could. She tried to focus solely on getting home. There was nothing she could do about whatever she was feeling right now. She got off at her exit and made her way down the side streets, avoiding the warehouse where she found Vader.

She nearly screamed when she entered the building's parking lot. Cops were everywhere! People she recognized from the building were all gathered out front. They kept pointing at the building with frantic, frightened fingers. She didn't see Vader. Thank God! Pamila parked quickly and rushed out of the car. Oh God…Vader! What happened?

She took a look at the officers. None of them were Collins. Hopefully that was a good sign. She went up to the crowd.

"What happened here?" she tried to ask nonchalantly. She folded her arms to hide her trembling hands while also trying to seem "tough". As if that were possible.

An older balding cop looked at her as if he was offended she dare ask him a question. "You live here, lady?" he sniffed.

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. That's kind of the reason I want to know what happened. So, what happened officer?" She didn't care if she sounded argumentative. Usually she hated offending people, but she didn't give a damn now. She wasn't having a great day.

The officer straightened at her sharp tone, but smiled a bit. "Someone heard shots fired. Problem is no one knows where from and it's not uncommon 'round here. Starting to think it's a dead end. Nothing reported stolen, no signs of break in, no bullet holes, and no signs of a struggle. Not even worth searching the apartments. We'll be off soon. Got actual crimes to look into."

Pamila was bursting with joy when he said they were leaving and hadn't searched the apartments, but she only showed a mild smile. "Well, I'm glad you guys came down just in case."

"Yup," he grunted, then turned to the supporting officers. "Come on guys, we got real work to do." And with that, they shuffled into their squad cars and left. Pamila rushed to her apartment. The door was closed. She twisted the knob. It was locked. That was good. She quickly went for her keys and unlocked the door. When she got inside, she saw Vader sitting calmly on the couch working on the beacon. It looked all smashed up.

"What happened?" She tried to ask calmly, but her voice still sounded a little panicked.

Vader to look at her then glanced back at his beacon. "Dropped it."

"Oh," she nodded absent-mindedly. "So, did you hear the gunfire?"

"Yes, but I knew it was nothing I had to worry about." He answered in a surprisingly smooth way. He put his project down and went toward her. He placed his hands on her arms reassuringly. "Were you worried?"

"Of course I was worried! First the police came to my work because for some reason there was a camera in the most remote part of the city and they saw me enter the building you were in. Thank god they didn't see me leave! Then I come here and a cop tells me there were shots fired! I thought it might have something to do with you because my life has never been this interesting before! I just kept having this terrible feeling that something bad had happened. I just kept imagining you hurt or dead and I just couldn't - I couldn't- I just couldn't…" Pamila started breathing heavily, unable to catch her breath, becoming louder than even Vader's simulated breathing. Vader pulled her close and held her tightly. She hated herself as she started weeping in his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be," he replied simply. "Everything is alright."

Pamila wept even harder, but now out of more joy than despair. She could see on tear fall from her check and stream down his leather arm. Whenever her shoulders moved up and down from crying, he held her tighter. She thought he may crush her, but she didn't care. It seemed like a lifetime since she was held and she suspected Vader was the same. He didn't strike her as a type of man people would find huggable. She did though. To the nth degree.

Many moments passed and no awkwardness came between them. Pamila realized she had never felt this comfortable with anyone before. Even her friends she had for years didn't put her at ease like he did. And she had a couple of boyfriends and they were nowhere near as comforting as Lord Vader. Strange, the man who crashed in a spaceship was her greatest comfort. Like a badass, ominous version of Alf. Being institutionalized for two years had made her weary of people, so maybe a mysterious outsider is just what she needed. That is, of course, if he felt the same way. He didn't seem to fear her healing gifts. But there was also one other question remaining.

What was the man behind the mask truly like?


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **Present Day: Coruscant**

Sidious and his newly replaced members of the Royal guard entered the secret entrance to the ancient Sith temple. It always made Sidious's blood boil in anger when he thought of the ignorant Jedi's temple standing above the more powerful Sith's. However, the irony that the Sith were ever present in the daily life of the Jedi did make him chuckle. Pathetic fools! Toppled by their own arrogant self-interest. Just like Plagueis. None of them could truly see Palpatine's gift for calculation and his abundance of patience. As a result, they all were now a distant memory and Sidious had an empire.

They reached the great hall of the temple. He ordered his guards to "stand watch" at the entrance of the hall. In many ways, having guards was merely a formality. Sidious was much more perceptive to danger than they could ever be, regardless the level of training. Still, extra sets of eyes and ears couldn't hurt and they were trained well enough to obey him without a question. Sidious refused to stoop to the level of arrogance his dead master had achieved.

Sidious moved to the center of the grand room and sat cross-legged on the floor. He began to meditate, combing through the Force, seeking out any trace of his apprentice. Or better yet, his apprentice's love interest. He felt his mind clear, letting his ever-boiling hatred fuel and guide him. He focused on his old master and the anger of how he used to undermine him. He ruminated on Plagueis's manipulation of midiclorians and the story of Anakin's Immaculate Conception in Shmi. Now Sidious could feel a hint of Vader's presence. Alas, it was not enough to track him. He moved his thoughts to Padme. Young, naïve, and pliable girl. He had worked hard to ensure she would become Queen of Naboo when he was preparing to make his first moves against the Republic. Fortunately, it took less effort to kindle a romance between the young Skywalker and Amidala. A suggestion here, a look there, little pushes and they fell helplessly in love.

 _As if such a thing exists._

In a flash, he saw a life flicker before him. Not his…Padme's. Or more accurately, her reincarnation. He saw a little girl who talked to trees. A girl who felt the life essence of everything around her. A girl who could control the winds and the sky. Who could touch a sick creature, person, or plant and heal it in an instant. A girl alone. Alone at school, at home, and in life. Only her thoughts as company and even those were terribly cruel. Then he saw the young woman she became. Buried in books and studies but longed for open fields, wild flowers, and glittering clouds. A woman who had to hide her gifts and told repeatedly she was going mad. Those thoughts and the people drove her mad.

There were white rooms and people in white clothes. False smiles and harsh lights. There were needles, pills, and electric shocks. So many shocks. Screams. Her screams. Her agony. Her determination to never break. A woman determined to own her gifts and to thrive. A strong yet beaten woman. Now a woman afraid of opening up. Walls high up, like she was encased.

Perhaps encased in a dark, unreadable, and emotional suit?

Sidious sneered. _How delightfully perfect!_

He could almost see them. Still, access alluded him. He needed more. He needed more rage, more pain.

He raised his skeletal hands toward the ceiling. Feeling the surge within him, he released streaks of Force Lightning. It reflected and bounced off the metal columns, striking his guards. Their screams were delicious. He reveled in them as glorious blue light filled the room. The crackling resonance sent a pleasant tingle down his spine. The bolts were non-lethal but extremely painful. In his mind's eye, he saw them writhing in the floor, begging for mercy. He absorbed their pain into his aura, charging his power even further. When he felt he was ready, he ceased his torture.

Sidious used his new charge to track down his targets. His consciousness shot through the cosmos like a blast-bolt. Past galaxies and stars and countless planets, he saw bright lights. Two luminous, pulsating beams. Vader and Pamila. He focused on his apprentice first.

"Lord Vader, can you hear me?" he whispered.


	17. Chapter 17

… … … … … … … …

 **Chapter 17**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

After her tears were dried by Vader's hands and after a relaxing shower, Pamila was now asleep. Her head rested peacefully upon a light purple pillow that was situated on Vader's lap. He leaned back on the couch, trying his best to let his head rest. The helmet made that damn near impossible! Still, as his gauntleted hands stroked Pamila's golden hair, his frustrations began to wane. Helmet or no helmet, he was certainly grateful for this moment. For her.

Behind the black optic orbs of his mask, his true eyes became heavy with sleep. He blinked a few times before he let his damaged eyes remain closed. There was a stillness in his soul that he had not felt in an age. He felt peace, tranquility, and joy. Usually in sleep, he heard the horrid shrieks coming from ghostly faces of those he massacred in the name of the Empire. He customarily saw the blood red light of his saber cutting through those he deemed unworthy. But not now. Now he listened to his breath tie in with the soft breath of the woman he was falling in love with. Who he had been in love with.

Suddenly he felt an upwelling of a bitter cold chill. An ethereal frost began to dust his thawing heart. It coiled around him and tightened its hold. It tugged at him commandingly like a frigid chain.

That is when he knew.

His auric dream body kneeled, his head dipping low, "What is thy bidding, my Master?"

Before Lord Vader shimmered a muted image of Darth Sidious. They were both in a black void of space. Empty and lifeless. Just like his Master.

Sidious raised his arms in a false welcoming fashion. "My apprentice, how good it is to have found you. Tell me, are you well?"

"I am uninjured, Master." Vader responded, trying very hard to keep his dialogue simple and devoid of emotion. He saw his Master eyeing him, evidently skeptical of his answer. Then Sidious emitted a predatory smile.

"That I can see well enough, Lord Vader. I sense something in you that has been missing for many years. Tell me, how is the young Pamila?"

Vader recoiled on the inside. He hoped with all his might that his Master would not sense Pamila. He tried so hard to guard his thoughts of her. Still, he was not strong enough to lie to his Master.

"She is well, my Master." Vader grudgingly admitted.

Sidious's spectral form moved closed to Vader. His eyes scanned Vader's dark body. "How does Pamila fare with the suit? Does she find it off-putting?"

Darth Vader clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to squelch the inferno of wrath that burned with each of Sidious's questions. "At first she was hesitant, but she appears to be fine with it now. I have not…cared enough to ask." Vader managed to lie at the end. He wanted his Master to believe him.

Sidious now looked directly at his face. "We shall see," he responded cryptically. Then he began to walk around Vader. "Fortunately, I have been able to find you. Soon I will assemble a landing party and retrieve you personally."

Vader gritted his teeth and clamped down on his tongue, preventing himself from saying anything untoward. "There is no need for you to make such an extensive journey, Master. I trust Captain Piett is competent enough to make the trip."

"As do I, my friend. However, I am anxious to see you returned safely to the Empire. Besides, I wish to meet your Pamila."

"She is not mine, Master." It was not a complete lie. Vader did not own Pamila. In addition, he was not entirely sure she cared for him the way he cared for her, though he did have his suspicions.

"Of course. My apologies," Sidious lamented insincerely. Vader's skin began to crawl. He was repulsed in his Master's presence. After spending even a few days in the Light, the Dark sickened him. Still, Vader knew he was not meant for the Light anymore. Eventually, he must return to his world of Darkness and keep Pamila safe by leaving her in her life of Light. It would hurt her, yes, but it would be a far better fate then entangling her with the malicious monster that was his Master.

Silence hovered over the two Dark Lords for many more moments. Eventually, Darth Vader built up a lie and found the strength to break the silence. "I look forward to your arrival, my Master."

Sidious's corpse face smile, "As do I."

… … … … …

Restless dreams plagued Pamila that night. At first, she was entirely peaceful. Vader had comforted her and let her rest her head on his lap. There she felt completely content. Her mind filled with warm thoughts and her heart was full of even warmer feelings. Then, as her mind began to shift into sleep, shadowy images appeared. Instead of sleeping on a comfortable pillow, she was suddenly standing in a world of fire.

 _Columns of lava erupted all around her, sending droplets of hot liquid everywhere. The smell of sulfur and brimstone caught in her nose, making her gag. The heat seeped into her face, adding to her anxiety._

 _She was afraid. She had to do something. It was important. She needed to stop something. Maybe someone… But who? And why?_

 _Something tightened around her throat. It caught off all her air; she could not inhale any oxygen. Her hands moved to where she felt the grip, but all she felt was the skin of her. If felt like a hand squeezing the life out of her, yet there was no arm to grab at. No hand to try to pry away. She started pleading. Please…please._

Her dream shifted again.

 _Now instead of fire and lava, white adobe walls and the smell of something cooking surrounded her. In a small white kitchen, she saw a middle-aged woman with placing vegetables in a pot. She was short and a little stout with short, dirty blond hair that barely came over the tips of her ears. She hummed to herself as steam from the pot hit her face._

 _A teenage boy came down the adobe stairs that led to the kitchen. He had shaggy blonde hair and wore a white tunic and pants. His face was glum, twisting his hands as if he were nervous. He hovered by the entryway as if he was afraid to come in._

 _"_ _Aunt Beru?" he mumbled nearly mutely._

 _"_ _Hmm? Yes dear?" She asked, not looking away from her work._

 _He start wringing his hands more tightly. Pamila feared he might snap them off. Then he entered to kitchen completely. His lips quivered as he began to speak, "Did I kill my mother?"_

 _In complete shock, the woman dropped a vegetable into the stew with a large splash. Hot water jumped up and landed on her arm. She winched a rubbed her arms with a nearby rag. Her eyes turned to her nephew, wide with disbelief. "What! Why would you ask such a thing?"_

 _They boy's face turned even sadder as he huffed and sat on the steps. "I was talking with Biggs. His aunt just died. He said his parents told him she died in childbirth. You told me my mom died right after I was born. So if she died in childbirth, that means I killed her." The boy's blue eyes were glossy with tears as he looked up at his aunt. "I killed my own mother." With that, the boy started to weep._

 _Pamila wanted to rush to the boy. Tell him that, for some reason, she just knew his mom would never blame him for her death. Instead, Pamila had to settle for watching his Aunt put down her rag and sit next to him. She wrapped a short around him and pulled him in close._

 _"_ _Children are not to blame when a mother dies in childbirth, especially when it comes to your mother." Beru said. Her eyes scanned the distance, as if looking back into the past._

 _They boy looked at his aunt. His eyes searched her face. "What was my mother like?"_

 _Beru gave his shoulder another squeeze, "I only ever met her once. Your uncle does not like me to talk about these things. But what I can tell you is your mother was beautiful, kind, intelligent, and…"_

 _"_ _And what?" the boy asked. His eyebrows raised with interest._

 _Beru stayed silent for a few more breaths before she spoke, "And she was devoted to your father to a fault."_

 _Pamila could tell that the boy wanted to know more, he was just too afraid to ask. Pamila could not help but feel like she knew this boy. Somehow, someway, she just could not place it. She had the inescapable urge to hug the boy and hold him even tighter than his aunt was. When she tried to move toward him, the dream kept her in place. She had to remain unmoving._

 _The boy spoke again, staring at the floor, "Are you sure I didn't kill my mother?"_

 _His aunt cupped his chin and made him meet her gaze, "I promise you, you were not responsible for your mother's death."_

Pamila's dream shifted once more time.

 _She was back in the world of fire. She could still feel something invisible choking her. Only this time, in the distance, she saw a dark gloved hand._

… … … … …

Pamila awoke with a jump. Suddenly Vader's arms wrapped around her. The first thing she saw was his dark gloved hands. Pushing that from her mind, she turned to look at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked. His voice was unusually gloomy.

She nodded, "Yeah…yeah. Just a bad dream." _Of course it was._

Dreams are only dreams.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **Present Day: Imperial Space**

 **Destination: Earth**

 ** _Sorry, this won't be much of a romance chapter. I am trying to set up for the big plot twists in the later story, particularly Pamila's relationship with the Empire and Darth Vader's world in the future (sorry, minor spoiler… but I won't tell you how or when). Once again, thank you for all your support! I honestly thought since I don't have many action scenes, people would not like this story. However, it seems like people enjoy the more internal conflicts, which I am very happy about! You continue to flatter and humble me. Thank you all!_**

"Are the jammers operational?" Captain Piett inquired to a baby-faced private. He looked down at the green recruit from the elevated bridge of the _Executor._

"Yes sir!" the private responded enthusiastically, straightening his back with pride.

Piett nodded, "Very good. The Emperor made it quite clear that the citizens of Earth should be oblivious to our presence. I would hate to inform him that you started an intergalactic incident."

"My sentiments exactly, Captain," a smooth, male voice sounded from the entrance of the bridge. Captain Piett turned to see the sharp cheekbones and silver hair of Wilhuff Tarkin of Eriadu.

Piett was now the one to straighten and stand in attention, "Grand Moff Tarkin, this is a surprise. Are you going to be joining us on this mission?"

Tarkin stood next to Piett with a click of his extremely polished boots, a thin smile forming on his face, "I am. I received word yesterday that the Emperor requested I be present. Personally, I don't see any reason why I should, but I am not one to question the Palpatine's judgement."

Piett flinched at the sound of the Emperor's name, but if anyone was free to speak it, it was Governor Tarkin. "Well, I know we are honored to have you aboard. I must admit I find that having the Grand Moff and the Emperor present makes me anxious, but I hope you will both find the journey satisfactory."

A snide twinkle glinted in Tarkin's eyes as his smile grew, "Not to worry. We both trust your skills as a captain. Besides, I am rather interested in meeting this Pamila." Tarkin paused and glanced out the nearest window. He pressed the knuckle of his index finger to his lips in his usual way. "The Emperor claims she is quite fetching."

Piett was confused by that last sentiment, but brushed it aside. "Shall I order the launch, Governor?"

Tarkin gave an apathetic wave with his hand, "This ship is yours to command, Captain."

Piett turned back to the officers and technicians that worked below the bridge, his shoulders rolled back and his head high, "Transmit launching code. Prep engines for light speed. Begin course to Earth."

… … … … …

Sitting in the large rotating throne in his quarters in the _Executor,_ Emperor Palpatine hailed a transmission to the head of the Imperial Security Bureau; Deputy Director Ison. When Ison answered the transmission, Palpatine could see him fussing over his appearance. He tried to subtly smooth his hair, straighten his uniform, and clear his throat. The little show almost made Palpatine laugh audibly, but he controlled himself. Of course.

"My lord…I mean Your Majesty, it is an honor to hear from you! How may I be of assistance?"

The Emperor pressed his lips into a small smirk. Oh how he loved the groveling and anxiety radiating from this man! "Deputy Director, as you may know, I am leaving Imperial space on a mission of some importance. During this time I wish for you to configure a report for me. A list, if you will."

Ison scrunched his eyebrows together. "A list sir? What would this list be about…my lord?" he added quickly.

"I require a list of rebel supporters and rebel groups located on Coruscant. More accurately, those who have a history of violence and torture as a means of getting results. Also, a list of your most trusted spies."

Ison's eyebrows furrowed even further, leaving deep creases in his forehead, "Of-of course my lord. But, I assure you, we are trying our best to infiltrate and apprehend such groups. If you think there is more to be done…"

Palpatine raised a hand to silence the Deputy Director, "You misunderstand. I do not wish for their extermination. Not yet, at least. I wish to exploit them."

The director's face flushed, "Exploit them, sir?"

The Emperor waved a dismissive hand and leaned forward in his chair, "I will explain this exercise in more detail later. Until then, let it stand that this is a matter of great importance and I expect a comprehensive listing of all groups. Is that clear, Deputy Director Ison?"

Ison looked down in shame and fear, "Yes, my lord. I will do as you command."

Palpatine killed the transmission and turned his chair to gaze out the window. He felt his back get pushed into his chair as the Star Destroyer began its voyage. He felt the vibration of the engine beneath his feet as the _Executor_ entered light-speed. He saw the stars streak past as long lines of brilliant light.

He had never left Imperial space before. He was rather looking forward to seeing this Earth. However, he was given the impression it was rather far behind technologically, so he doubted he could exploit it for resources. That was never his plan. He needed Pamila to trust him…to an extent. Exploiting her home world would only hinder that goal. Now he needed to monitor his apprentice and Pamila. Study their relationship and see how to proceed from there.

As for Tarkin, his strong tactical mind could be of use. However, that was not the main reason Palpatine wanted him aboard. Lord Vader and the Governor had always been butting heads to some extent. Their subtle competition with each other had served Palpatine well over the years and would do so again now. Tarkin loved image. He loved to flaunt power and prestige. Tarkin always wanted to be an idol. To have everything work for him and go his way.

The Emperor knew the thought of Lord Vader having a wife or even a love interest before Tarkin would madden the Grand Moff. A machine and a brute receiving feminine affection while the well-to-do governor did not? A man who, to Tarkin's knowledge, was presumably incapable of being a lover getting a woman before him? Palpatine knew Tarkin would find this unbearable. He would do everything to hinder their budding romance. Even to the extent of cutting in-between them and claiming Pamila for himself. Then Lord Vader could play the role of gallant protector and gentleman.

But first the Rebels. They were going to be the most crucial ingredient of all. The foundation of his ticking time bomb


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

Pamila was freaking out. Vader had not talked to her at all this morning. After she woke up that morning, he gave her arm a pat and stated tinkering with that damn beacon. If it could even be called tinkering. It seemed like he worked on it, would break it a little, and then worked on it again. Pamila tried talking to him, but he just grumbled, nodded, or just said nothing. This was a great way to spend her day off!

Trying to ignore his grumpy mood, she took the day to clean her apartment. She hated cleaning, but she couldn't help but tidy up when she was stressed. The cupboards under the sink were rarely opened, but today she opened them and pulled out every cloth, scrub brush, and lemony cleaning product she could find. Every product that claimed to be the best at everything even though most of them were downright average.

She walked briskly to her bathroom, avoiding Vader's newly foul aura. She pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail, another habit she had when under stress. Still in her satin white pajamas, she began to scrub the sink within an inch of its life. Feeling the grit of the bristles against the porcelain help expel some of her anxieties. Then she wiped down the counter in impatient broad strokes. Her mind kept shifting back to her dreams last night. It made the hairs on her arm stand up. It was all so vivid. Every detail was intense and overwhelming. In that fire world, she swore she had been there. It was like it really happened. But of course that was crazy. She rarely had been more than a tank of gas away from Chicago. She had never seen lava in person before. However, having a man from outer space being a grouch on her couch would've seemed crazy three days ago. And those black gloves, they looked a lot like his…

She shuddered and rubbed her temples. Black gloves were not an uncommon thing! It wasn't like he heard his breathing. Now THAT would have been an identifiable indicator!

That boy… he seemed so real. She felt so strongly for him. She felt she had to protect him, nurture him… but that was ludicrous. It was just a dream.

When she was convinced the bathroom had suffered enough of her wrath, Pamila moved into the kitchen. She began to spray a cleaner on the counter top, but soon she realized she was tired of working in the quiet with only Vader's breath to interrupt her thoughts. She put the spray bottle down and moved to her computer. She pulled up her playlist of songs and hit shuffle. She let the fates decide what she was in the mood for.

Apparently the fates were feeling sappy.

By the time she returned to the counter and began to clean it, one of her favorite songs started to play. February Song by Josh Groban. Despite this being a favorite song of hers, she felt embarrassed of having it play in front of Vader. She shrugged it off. Her home, her music, he can just deal.

The song played. Pamila didn't listen to the words. She was focused on every miniscule crumb and stain on the counter. Then the song ended and she waited for the next song to play. But it didn't. February Song played again. Pamila glanced at her computer. There she saw Vader hovering over the keyboard. He turned to look at her. They stared at each other for a brief moment before he moved toward her. His tall, dark build and his black cape flowing behind him added a certain allure.

He stood in front of her. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist while the other held her hand. He pulled her close. Still without saying a word, he started to move them to the sound of the music. Cautiously, she placed her free hand on his shoulder. When she did, he held her even tighter. It was not a formal form of dance, just simple swaying, but it was still wonderful.

Now Pamila paid attention to the lyrics. The lament for good times gone, the fear of not being good enough for the one you love, and a message of how sometimes love can break you just a little bit on the inside. Did Vader relate to this? Is that why he played it again? Was he trying to tell her something? She was probably just overanalyzing again. It had been only three days! He couldn't be possibly telling her he was afraid of disappointing her, right? Though, if she was being totally honest with herself, she kind of hoped he was.

Eventually her mind stopped asking so many annoying questions. Finally she let herself be in the moment. She felt his powerful hands clutch the fabric her shirt. Not trying to remove it, but as if he was trying to keep her there. To make sure she stayed with him, trying to drink her in. Feeling his desperation, she rested her head rest on his broad chest as they danced. She thought it would relax her knight, but instead it seemed to make him sorrowful. She could feel it in his aura. It was the first time she had ever been able to read his aura.

"You're hiding something," she stated.

"Yes," is all he answered. It didn't seem like he was going to elaborate. She moved to look at him, but he yanked her towards him once more, gripping her like a vice.

"Stay…Please, stay!" his baritone voice took on an unusual pleading tone. She caught a brief look at concealed face. Even through a mask, it seemed despairing. She rested her head near his heart. It was beating so quickly, so frantically. He held her to him so closely she thought she may be absorbed by him.

"I don't want to hurt you." His deep enticing voice said sincerely.

"You're not," she assured him.

He went quiet for many moments, then he merely said, "I have. And for that, I can never forgive myself. I will not allow it to happen again."

"You haven't hurt me. I promise you." She consoled him again.

He went quiet for a second time, "You don't know of what you speak."

Now she was getting upset. She wiggled out of his grip. "Of course I know what I'm talking about! It's my life and my feelings! So if I say you haven't hurt, then you haven't hurt me!"

He stood stunned for a second, apparently not used to someone yelling at him. Then he pointed an authoritative finger at her, "There is much you don't know."

"Then tell me!" she yelled.

"No!" His volume matched hers. "I won't hurt you again."

Pamila rolled her eyes, "So your plan for not hurting me was keeping secrets from me, pissing me off, then hurting me that way? Great plan!"

"It's better than what it could be. I will not let this get destroyed!"

She gave off an irritated snort, "And what exactly is _this_? Hmm? I'd give anything to hear you define _this_ for me."

Vader let her question go unanswered, "What this is does not matter. What matters is that I keep you safe!"

"From what? From the Empire?"

All she heard was Vader's respirator working. He took a few steps away from her, "From me. You do not know me. Not who I truly am." With that he sat back down on the sofa.

Pamila tried very hard to steady her angry breath. She folded her arms in front of her, "Maybe. Maybe you are right. But you are also wrong. I know you well enough. I have seen a man in great pain who is capable of great caring. I know a man I have been happy to be around. And now I see a man who is stuck living in the past, afraid of letting go."

… … … … …

With that said, Pamila walked into her bedroom and shut the door. Vader watched her go. He clamped down on his own hands. She was right. She was wrong. He was stuck. He was afraid. But she didn't deserve a machine. A mechanical beast. So he was decided.

He would rather hurt her with thoughts of what could have been, not with what will be.

 ** _Uh-oh! Trouble in paradise :/ not to worry ;) They are both strong enough to endure a few spats. There will be plenty of more cuddles and fights and cuddles for Vader and Pamila. Domestics are not the threat they should worry about._**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **Present Day: Earth**

 **The Chicago Tribune: Front Page (Only 100 printed…barely)**

 **"** **Breaking News Overnight: Satellites and radar suddenly going dark along with massive blackouts around the world. Communication breaks down internationally due to loss of internet and inert cell towers. Radar for flights on the fritz. Computers and Smartphones are unexplainably malfunctioning. Chicago seems to be the most effected. We at the Tribune had to use generators to create this edition. Experts working around the clock trying to figure out the cause and more importantly, how to get all systems back online. The world is blind for the time being folks! It is recommended that you check your 72 hour kits and make sure they are up to date. No one knows when this phenomenon will end. Stay safe our lovely readers."**

"Enter," Palpatine called out to the knock on his door. Captain Piett quietly came into his private quarters. The Emperor shot him a conceited grin. "Do the jammers appear to be working Captain?" He already knew the answer.

"Affirmative, my lord. And we are hovering above the planet's orbit as you requested."

"Very good, Captain," Palpatine paused and glanced over Piett's shoulder to the door. "You may enter, Governor Tarkin." The Emperor called out before there was even a tap at the door.

Tarkin hesitantly entered the room. His eyes darted between the door he never knocked on and the Emperor. Palpatine let out a throaty chuckle. He loved catching Tarkin off guard. "I'm glad you've come Governor. I was just about to have the Captain here send for you. I think it's time we made our approach into Earth, don't you agree Tarkin?"

Tarkin stopped some feet away from Palpatine, clasping his hands behind his back. "I think it will be an interesting journey. As long as Captain Piett is certain the jammers have obstructed Earth's sensors to our approach."

Piett opened his mouth to reply, but Palpatine spoke first. "The jammers have done their job. We are in the clear, Governor."

At that, Grand Moff Tarkin acquiesced, "In that case, let's not keep Lord Vader waiting."

The Emperor turned his attention back to Piett, "Get a shuttle ready. Tarkin and I will meet you in the hanger shortly."

Piett suddenly looked concerned, "Will the Royal Guards not be escorting you sir?"

Palpatine made a gesture that could be construed as a shrug. "I know of no enemies I have on this meager planet. Besides, I doubt a majority of the populace walk the streets with a host a guards at their back. Our priority is to not draw untoward attention to ourselves captain."

Piett bowed his head in acknowledgement, "I understand my lord." He gave a full bow at the waist, then left to go prep the Emperor's shuttle.

After he left, Tarkin let out a sniff, "Nervous fellow."

"Indeed. However, he is loyal and efficient. The Empire could use more me like him. He knows his place." Palpatine corrected Tarkin swiftly. Palpatine then placed a wrinkled hand on his blackened cane and lifted himself from his seat. He made his way toward Tarkin "Come Governor. I am rather interested in meeting this Pamila."

Tarkin moved to open the door for his ruler, then followed silently to follow him. They made their way down the grey, lifeless corridors of the massive Star. Since the end of the Clone Wars, all ships, transports, and residences had gone bland. Uniform to each other. There was very little individualistic expression. Palpatine liked that. Self-expression led to questioning authority which led to rebellion. Palpatine had far more ambitious desires than dealing with the populace's petty grievances.

"What do you know about her?" Tarkin broke the silence. "All I know is she rescued Vader from some sort of crash."

Palpatine smiled to himself. Already Tarkin's heart was filling with jealous desire. Still, he would hold back information from the Grand Moff just to keep him guessing and keep his interest peaked. He would not tell him Pamila was the reincarnation of the late Senator Amidala.

"Well Governor, I have already told you that she is beautiful. Even a hardened man like me couldn't help but be dazzled by her eyes. It seems like she has even caught the attention of Lord Vader."

Tarkin snorted, "Oh? And what could come of that? Unless she is fond of watching people being hacked to bits by a Lightsaber and has an extensive knowledge of robotics, he has nothing to offer her."

Palpatine couldn't help but laugh. He decided to add some salt to the cut. "Perhaps. Still, in my meditations, I couldn't help but sense she was falling for him too."

A subtle growl emitted from Tarkin's throat, "Preposterous."

The Emperor tried to turn his face into a serious expression, "Unfortunately for Lord Vader, it is doubtful she will choose to join him on his trip back to the Empire."

Palpatine saw Tarkin grin, "Yes. Very unfortunate for Lord Vader." The Governor mused.

They made it the rest of the way to the hanger in a smug silence. Tarkin smug with thoughts of a heart-broken Vader, Palpatine smug about having baited part of his trap. But he wouldn't get too ahead of himself. There was still much work to be done.

In the hanger bay, the entered to see a patient Captain Piett waiting by the open docking bay of an Imperial shuttle. He hung his head in piety as the Emperor approached.

"The navigation is set for the coordinates you set, my lord. Ready to launch at your command."

Palpatine just gave a slight nod of the head in acknowledgment. Tarkin didn't even nod. They quietly ascended the gangplank into the transport. As soon as the Piett saw that his Emperor and Grand Moff Tarkin were seated and strapped in, he closed the entryway and sealed the hatch. He then looked at Palpatine, seeking permission.

Palpatine nodded faintly, "Launch when ready, Captain."

With permission secured, Captain Piett moved swiftly to the cockpit and told the pilot to take off. Soon, the thrusters roared to life. Both Tarkin and Palpatine fell back into their seats as the shuttle lifted from the floor and moved forward into space. In tiny windows, Palpatine observed how much smaller the _Executor_ became and how the planet of Earth grew. He smiled to himself.

 _So it begins._

He caught of glimpse of Tarkin. He saw the steely Governor's thumbs twitching anxiously. He saw that Tarkin's eyes were thoroughly dilated and a rosy hue filled his cheeks ever so slightly. Palpatine knew the reason, but he needed Tarkin to be raw and impulsive.

"Why Governor, are you alright? You seem slightly…agitated."

At first, Tarkin shook his head in denial, but then paused. "May I speak plainly, my lord?"

Palpatine smirked. "Of course."

Tarkin blushed even more. It was very uncharacteristic. "In truth, the thought of Lord Vader with a woman…I find it unsettling.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow in curiosity, " ' _With_ '? Are you implying there is a… carnal aspect we are unaware of?"

Tarkin looked down, seemingly solemn, but Palpatine knew all this was just a ploy to gain more information. "I don't mean to cause offense. I know he his your liaison and confidant. But I can't help but feel he is a…" Tarkin hesitated.

Palpatine finished the thought for him, "A monster."

Tarkin nodded, "Yes. Please don't misunderstand. I find that certain monstrous virtue in Vader to be a useful tool when it comes to maintaining order within _your_ Empire and doling out punishments for traitors. However, it hardly seems suitable for a… _consenting_ relationship. I mean, is he even capable of… of…" Tarkin stopped his thought and Palpatine let him.

The Emperor leaned back in his seat, smiling. "Remember Governor, there is a thin line between monster and man. For all of us. Perhaps if Pamila does join us, you can share your concerns with her if you feel it is necessary."

This seemed to pacify the Grand Moff, "Perhaps."

The subject dropped. Palpatine almost laughed. Tarkin was growing more envious by the minute. Even at a faster rate than Palpatine had expected. Already the Governor was anticipating and planning on how he could make Pamila doubt Vader. This was satisfactory, but irrelevant at the moment. Tarkin was the second part of his plan, not the first. Palpatine knew that Pamila would not join them on their return voyage, but that was acceptable. That was the wrong way to introduce her to the Empire. Deputy Director Ison would help him set up the right way. Pamila would make it to the Empire…eventually. Just in a more _colorful_ fashion.

The Emperor felt the shuttle quiver as they entered the atmosphere. Out the small viewports, he saw a planet in total darkness. No lights, hardly any transports moving around. Even in the hull of a shuttle, he could feel the quiet. The stillness.

The shuttle landed in a vacant field a few kilometers from Pamila's residence. Both locations Sidious had unearthed in his recent meditations. It would be a bit of a walk, but Palpatine didn't mind. Soon he would meet the woman who would kill the Rebellion.

The Emperor, Tarkin, and Piett set off. They left the pilots to guard the shuttle. While meandering the streets of Earth, Palpatine remained unimpressed. The buildings were little more than pitiful, subpar structures. The transports were even more so. Speeders that seemed to be permanently bound to the ground. The technology he saw seemed primitive at best. He doubt he would be more impressed when they regained power. He sniffed in disgust. What a horridly sad planet.

Tarkin vocalized his thoughts, "One half expects to find people wearing furs bashing rocks together while cleaning their clothes in a river, doesn't one?"

Both Piett and Palpatine agreed. "Undeniably."

In time, they reached Pamila's meager building. Sidious remembered what Vader told him.

"In here," he told Tarkin and Piett. "Apartment 2A."

They grudgingly entered the shabby structure. It was dark and appeared to be devoid of life and made their way up the stairs. On the second floor, as plain as day, they saw the golden symbols _2A._

"Shall I knock first, my lord?" Piett offered. "In case there is danger."

Palpatine smiled, "There is no danger." He walked up and knocked on the door. He heard muffled voices on the opposite side.

"Pamila wait!" He heard Vader's bass voice call out urgently. Then he heard the heavy footfall of Vader's boots.

"Would you relax for two seconds?" A light female voice responded haughtily. "It's probably just a neighbor wanting to borrow a candle or something. Just get back and chill for a sec."

"Pamila…" Sidious heard his apprentice warn again, but it was too late. The door was opening.

A woman with sultry sapphire eyes and pink smiling lips opened the door. She jumped for a second when she caught sight of Palpatine, but she kept on forcefully smiling. She gripped the door tightly though, out of fear. "Hi, can I help you?"

Tarkin and Piett stood up a little straighter. Palpatine tried to put on his best warm smile. "I am hear for Lord Vader."

Hearing that, Vader quickly appeared by Pamila's side. It was clear to Palpatine he was conflicted. He wasn't sure if his apprentice was going to bow in his presence or block Pamila with his body and challenge Sidious.

Instead, Vader stood still and spoke hesitantly. "Welcome, my master."

At that, Pamila swiftly turned her head between Vader and Palpatine. Finally, she turned her gaze fully to Vader, "You're right. There is a lot I don't know.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **Present Day: Chicago.**

He was here. His Master had arrived. Vader expected that. He expected to see Piett's lips quiver in their presence and pale under Vader's gaze. He, however, did not expect the presence of Tarkin. Yet there he was, sitting far too close to Pamila on the sofa. _Vader's_ Pamila. Piett sat on the sofa as well, but at least he had the decency to keep his distance. His Master sat in an armchair across from Pamila. The candle light filling the room did not help. It seemed to encourage the depraved governor.

Of course Pamila played good hostess and invited them inside with a kind smile and open arms. She offered refreshments and food, both were declined. That's just the kind of woman she was. Vader knew this and admired it, but in this instance, he wished she was slightly cold hearted. In Vader's mind, she was too comely to be seen in her lavender sun dress.

Lord Vader did not resume his usual position of standing behind his Master. Instead he stood behind Pamila. He saw his Master notice this, but Sidious said nothing. At least from there he could hover over Tarkin and watch his every move. Every time Tarkin's eyes lingered too long or his hand brushed against her, Vader was ready to strike. But he heard his Master in his thoughts:

 _Steady, my friend. Steady._

"I'm still blown away about the thought of space travel," Pamila addressed Piett now, easing Vader's tension. "Here on Earth, it was amazing when we made it to the moon. But for you guys, it must be so workaday. And you mentioned you're a captain of a spaceship right? That's amazing."

Piett blushed a bit, but kept a straight back and a steady voice. "Thank you…Pamila," Piett kept on struggling on what to call her. Vader knew he kept wanting to say _my lady._ In Piett's mind, she was Vader's. Vader approved of this thought.

The Emperor interjected into their conversation, which made Vader stiffen with anxiety. "Pamila, I am most interested in hearing about you. You are a healer yet you use no medicine, you use energy. Please, I would like to hear more about this Reiki."

Vader's entire body went rigid. He knew the true purpose of his Master's inquiries. Sidious was constantly looking for resources and talents to take advantage of. It was one thing to use Vader as the Empire's warden, but he would not let Pamila's healing soul be abused.

He could feel Pamila tense every time Palpatine spoke to her. Vader could feel her stomach sink and her hands tremble ever so slightly. Still, she responded to his Master. "Oh, I don't know if it's really all that interesting. Basically, I just use a certain kind of energy called Chi to help heal the body. It has less side-effects then medications and people seem to appreciate that."

Palpatine placed an index finger on his chin, clearly fascinated. "How marvelous. You must be very gifted to be able to wield such a talent."

"And quite lovely, I might add." Tarkin declared with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. Vader saw Pamila lean away from Tarkin. She tentatively stood up and moved away from the sofa.

"Are you guys sure you don't want anything? It's really no trouble." Tarkin and Piett looked like they were going to say something, but Palpatine waved them off.

"Thank you, Pamila, but we are fine. I assure you."

Pamila nodded uncertainly and made her way into the kitchen, pouring some purple liquid into a tall glass. Vader knew she wanted to leave this situation, but didn't dare be impolite. Vader wanted to help comfort her while he still could.

Vader looked at his Master, "Is there anything I need to be appraised of since my absence?"

His Master shot him a disapproving look. Most likely upset that his apprentice dared interrupt his inquiries. Palpatine let out a soft sigh and scowled, "Nothing of relevance at this time, Lord Vader."

A noticeable feeling of agitation and tension seemed to saturate the room. Both Tarkin and Piett shifted in their seats as Darth Vader and Darth Sidious stared each other down. Pamila stopped drinking her drink mid-sip. She carefully placed the glass on the counter and fiddled with her fingers nervously.

"I'm just going to let you guys talk. I got some chores to do in the bedroom."

Palpatine tried to twist his face back into a friendly smile as he looked back at her, "I hope we haven't chased you off."

"No, I just want to get some things done before I forget. You guys make yourself comfortable. Let me know if you need anything." With that, she silently walked to her room and softly closed the door.

Vader's master looked at him with disdain, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you did that on purpose."

"She doesn't need to know the Empire's business." Vader responded, trying to keep his tone aloof and callous. "I thought it be best if we discuss such matters in private."

"And I told you there are no relevant issues to discuss!" his Master snapped, rising to his feet, making Piett flinch.

Tarkin interrupted the frosty tension by walking towards the kitchen, inspecting the glass bottle of Pamila's drink, sniffing at its brim. "She seems like a passive, docile little creature. You're a lucky man, Lord Vader."

Vader shrugged unfeelingly, "I hadn't noticed." He looked back at the Emperor. "When do we return to the Empire?" The Force knows he didn't want to go back. If he thought there was a prayer of him defeating Sidious, he would hack them all to pieces right then and live out his life with Pamila in this small apartment. But he knew his Master's Force Lightning would disable him in a minute, so Vader was forced to play this mind game. Once he was out of her life, she would be safe. It would kill what was left of his heart, but it was a small price to pay.

His Master opened his mouth in surprise. "Why the hurry? I thought you would be relishing your rare time off."

"Yes Vader, why rush away from the woman who saved you're life and who only has one bed?" Tarkin snickered. Vader knew Tarkin was goading him. Still, it took all his strength not to crush his windpipe.

Vader struggled to disregard his emotions, "It may have escaped your notice Tarkin, but the three people who make up the foundation of the Empire stand in this room. And they stand outside of the Empire's boarders. Ergo, the longer we are here, the more potential problems could arise there."

Tarkin seemed to bristle at Vader's comment but remained silent. The corner of the Emperor's mouth twitched, either as a smile or a sneer of derision. Piett finally decided to speak up.

"My Emperor, Lord Vader does have a point. The Empire will be in disarray if you remain here much longer."

Palpatine glanced at Piett, barely regarding his words. Then he looked back at Vader. "What of Pamila?"

Lord Vader placed his hands on his hips dismissively, "Pamila is of little consequence. She will remain here, of course. She has no place in the Empire."

 _Except with me! Except to love me and make me feel like a man again! Don't make me go back to that hell!_ His mental voice pleaded. He ignored it. This was for the best.

Tarkin folded his arms over his chest skeptically. "Can she be trusted? Leaving her unattended is a bit of a loose end. Perhaps it would be best to eliminate the risk altogether."

Vader let out a deafening growl, his hands clamping down on the back of the sofa. "She is not some loose-lipped informant! Who in this primitive planet would believe a woman about a galactic empire? And even if someone who wasn't insane did believe her, what could they feasibly do to _us?_ Besides, she is no traitor!"

Instead of being taken aback, Tarkin chuckled. "That is a lot of pomp for a woman who is of no consequence."

"Indeed it is," the Emperor agreed, but then let the topic slide. "However, Lord Vader is right. Pamila is not a risk. Piett is right as well. We must return to the Empire soon." He moved to Vader, standing disturbingly close to him. "We will leave you alone to say your farewells. I trust you will meet us at the shuttle?"

Vader saw the location of the transport in his mind. Then he met his Master's gaze. "Of course, my Master."

… … … … … … … …

 _Of no consequence?_ Did he really just say she was of no consequence? There was a lot of snuggling for being of no consequence! If she was one night stand, she would have expected this. Some fun and then done. But she wasn't. He had been so respectful with her, so sweet and understanding. But now he was on his way to tell her it was over and that it didn't mean anything. It was her own damn fault! She had turned into one of those wishy-washy women she used to make fun of. She was Florence Nightingale meets Bella Swan! She had grown attached to a perfect stranger in a mask. Could it have ended any other way? How could be she be such an idiot? Expecting a happy ending from a peculiar house guest. Pamila readied herself for the hammer drop she should have seen coming.

The door seemed to groan as it opened, matching the tone of the room. Candlelight from the living room melded with the candlelight from her bedroom, making Vader's shadow large and terrifying as he entered the room. He didn't knock. Pamila didn't know if that meant he was comfortable around her or he just didn't give a damn about her privacy. Probably the latter.

She was in the middle of folding jeans when he came into her room fully. His hand seemed to rest nervously on the handle, toying with it in his fingers. Even she could feel his resistance. Her knight was ashamed.

He spoke in that deep voice that could pierce every part of her soul. "Pamila, I… I… It is time for me to return to the Empire."

Pamila tried her best to smile at him. After all, it was not his fault she built up expectations in her head. "I know," She put down the blue jeans she was folding on her bed. "I hope you have a safe trip." With that said, she picked up another pair of jeans and started folding.

He didn't leave. He stood there. Silent, frozen, and as handsome as ever. God, she just wanted him to leave before she broke down into tears! Instead, he took a step towards her.

"Is that all you hope for?" He asked gently. "Is that all you're going to say?"

She looked up at him as his imposing figure moved excruciatingly slow towards her. He stopped tantalizingly close to her. She tilted her head to meet his gaze.

"What would you like me to say? Would you like to hear me beg you not to go? Would you like me to cry girlish tears for you?"

It was meant to be sarcasm. It was not meant to sting. But it did, she knew it did. He looked down, shame playing out even in his mask. Then after some moments of quiet, he looked at her once again, "Yes. I want you to make me stay here. I want you to convince me that I can prevent the inevitable. That I can change who I am."

Pamila was speechless. What was he talking about? He wanted to stay? With her? No, it couldn't be. He was just being kind. Making her feel good before he left. He was just trying to be a gentleman.

"Please," she started to speak, but it sounded more like a whimpering plea. "You don't know how much I want you to stay. But I can't ask you to. I can't ask you to stay in this tiny apartment with me. I'm a hot mess! And I'm jumping the gun assuming you feel anything for me. All I know is I care for you, but we barely know each other and obviously those other guys are anxious to take you back home. So let's just part friends and be happy."

Vader did not react for a long time. Then his deep voice rumbled. "You care about me?" It seemed like both a statement and a question. Then he looked down at his gloved hands, furling and unfurling his fingers.

Without warning, he snatched the tips of one of his gloves and ripped it of his hand. In front of Pamila's eyes was a silver hand. Mechanical joints held together alloy fingers to a metal hand. It looked skeletal and cold. It shook. He shook. Then she realized. He was terrified. He was angry. Lord Vader was mortified.

With his other hand, he gripped her arm tightly and pulled her close to him and his hand. His voice sounded darker than usual. "Look at this! This is what you have come to care for! Parts of me may be flesh, but this is what dominates my body. Frigid and unloving metal. And if it's not mechanical, its scars. Burns on decrepit flesh! Is that something you want to love?"

Pamila hardly listened to his monologue. While he was talking, her fingers began tracing the finer points of his. It was cool to the touch, but enticing nonetheless. Even if it was metal, she could still feel his aura upon it. His shame. His sadness. His need. In some ways, it was hauntingly human. It craved affection, but felt unworthy of it.

Unthinkingly, she entwined her fingers with his. She heard him suck in a nervous breath. She gripped his hand tightly because it was just that. His hand. Nothing more, nothing less.

" _You_ are _someone_ I want to love."

He was quiet. His thumb traced over her knuckles. It sent a shiver down her spine. Out of pleasure, not the chill of the metal. If she could, she would have kissed him. She still would have, regardless of the mask; but it would probably make him uncomfortable and he would retreat away.

He broke the silence and released his grip on her arm. "I care for you as well. And because of that, I must leave you be." He backed away from her. She swore she could almost her a sniffle behind his mask. She wanted to run and keep him there, but her feet were cemented to the ground. "Farewell Pamila."

Lord Vader, the man she saved from the fire, turned on his heels and left.

 ** _*Belt from the Croods stretches out his arms* Da da DAAAA! However, before anyone jumps on the comment section and say how horrible I am for breaking them up, let me just say this is far from the end. They just couldn't stay in that apartment forever. Someone needed to throw some dynamite in the water ;) They will be back together, but some things have to happen in between first ;) and one of them of course is Palpatine in all his evil glory. And side note: I didn't mean to offend twilight fans with my bella swan comment, that is just the characters viewpoint. Until next time my lovely readers! Thank you for all your support._**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 **Two Weeks Later: The Emperor's Palace; Coruscant**

Twenty-one. That is how many people Lord Vader killed in the past few weeks. Imperial officers, stormtroopers, and a host of rebel's on "trial". Sidious had not seen Vader like this, except for his initial months inside the suit two decades ago. He was worse than a caged rancor! Vader's flagship was run on a tighter shift than it had ever been. Almost constant inspections, drills, and floggings. Sidious had never seen Captain Piett so flustered and terrified! His apprentice also refused to say Pamila's name. If he mentioned it at all, he called it "the incident".

Sidious noticed his apprentice's change of style with a Lightsaber. He was less calculated and more brutal. Vader took more risks, needlessly tempting death. In capturing some rebels, Vader had crossed through electrical beams. He was fine after hours in the bacta-tank and suit repairs, but it was a rash and needless move.

Everything had transpired did so because Sidious allowed it to. Padme's death was a persistent wound for Vader, so offering relief in the form of Padme's reincarnation was the perfect way to give false hope. Sidious had counted on Yoda sensing this and sending Vader to Earth. He knew Vader would quickly grow attached to Pamila and his inevitable separation from her would push him even further to the Dark Side. Now for part two: Correctly brining Pamila to the Empire in order to gain sympathy from its citizens.

Sidious sat in a plush chair on one of his palace's verandas, reveling in Lord Vader's suffering. Now he was nice and raw, just how Sidious needed him in order to execute the next part of his plan. Irrational, impulsive, and unstable. Falling in a downward spiral.

Sidious bared his teeth, _Perfect._

Sidious's comlink beeped. The voice of his current assistant emanated from it, "My lord, Deputy Director Ison is here to see you. He has…guests."

"Send them in," Sidious responded plainly. He moved from his veranda and into the adjoining room. As he made it to the center, the door opened and Ison entered. Behind him were the slimiest people from Coruscant's underbelly. Spies for them Empire. Well, more accurately, spies for money. That's why they were fed limited information and "exterminated" quickly after use.

There was one large twi'lek, one small dug, and two pale humans. The deputy director was smiling, but Palpatine knew he was wary of his "friends".

Palpatine didn't wait for them to make small talk, "Are these your best spies, Deputy Director?"

Ison seemed dazed by the Emperor's abruptness, but quickly recovered. "Yes, my lord. These spies have successfully infiltrated the type of rebel groups you expressed interest in."

"Happy times," the dug spoke in his native language. "They're real fond of slicing and dicing. Lost a foot to prove myself to them." The dug gestured to his stump.

"Be quiet, Threllba!" Ison barked. "Keep your tongue still in front of the Emperor!"

Palpatine was dismissive of the informality, "This meeting is not a debate on protocol, Ison. What I wish to know is are your spies trusted enough to spread rumors within these rebel factions."

"We did all that work just to start rumors like a school girl?" the twi'lek scoffed. Palpatine eyed him. The twi'lek's blue skin was riddled with fresh scars. Probably another form of initiation.

"One well-placed rumor can topple a nation, spy. Like a rumor told to your wife on whose lipstick resides on your collar." Palpatine retorted, sending the twi'lek his most steely stare. The twi'lek's lekku twitched and he looked at the floor in shame.

Threllba rolled his eyes at his co-conspirator, "We are deep enough to start the rumor. Ain't a guarantee it will spread."

Palpatine's eyes twinkled, "Oh, I think this rumor is…what is it they say? Oh yes… _juicy_ enough to get circulated."

Palpatine moved behind his desk and sat down on the large chair. "I want it known throughout the web of the Rebellion that there is a chink in the Empire's armor. Lord Vader has been compromised. There is now leverage to be used against him."

"And what is this leverage?" One of the humans asked.

Palpatine smiled, "Not what, who. It is a woman who holds Vader's heart in her hands. Lord Vader is now vulnerable. I want it know that whoever has the girl, controls Lord Vader. Whoever harms the girl also harms Vader. The group who has the girl can extort Lord Vader and by extension the Empire."

Threllba raised an eyebrow, "And who is this miracle girl? Where is she at?"

"Her name is Pamila Jenkins. As for her location, I want the idea of Vader's weakness to marinate their subconscious. For now, just say she is somewhere beyond the Outer Rim and that you are trying to procure her exact location. But I want it to be quite clear to the rebels that Vader would pay _any_ price to rescue the girl if she was to be taken hostage by a rebel faction. Is that understood?"

All the spies nodded, not daring to speak or ask any questions.

"My lord," Deputy Director Ison found the courage to speak. "Is this rumor true?"

"Pamila Jenkins is real and does live outside the Outer Rim. As for Vader, well, I think that information is above your paygrade. Don't you, Deputy Director?"

Ison paled fearfully. "Of course, my lord."

Palpatine shooed the rabble away with his hands, "Leave me."

As they all scurried off, Sidious couldn't help but smile triumphantly.

 _Poor meek Pamila,_ Palpatine mocked sympathy in his head. _You've let yourself fall in love with a monster. And soon you will reap the consequences of your foolishness. Monsters make enemies. Now those enemies will let their rage settle upon you. But don't fret! Your suffering will serve to strengthen the Empire and crush the Rebellion. Your blood will not be in vain. Your screams shall ensure my reign. So be honored, sweet child, and love your dark monster._

… … … … … …

 **Mustafar** **: Darth Vader's Fortress**

"I swear! I'm just a cargo pilot! I didn't know there were rebels in that crate! Please don't kill me!"

Convulsing on the floor was a tattered pilot. Looming above him like a dark thundercloud was Lord Vader. Darth Vader didn't even bother to remember the rebel's name. The pilot had been injected with a truth serum of Vader's own design. It burned in the victims veins constantly, but would tear holes in the vessels when the prisoner told a lie. Vader could see ruptured veins all over the pilots back and arms, but still the pilot had the nerve to lie to him.

Vader bent down and picked up the agonized pilot by the throat. He suspended him in the air with one hand, "You think you are valiant protecting your rebel conspirators, but you are wrong. You are disposable to them. They care little for your meager life. Tell me their destination, and I might be more forgiving."

The pilot turned his gaze away from Vader, as if considering his options. Then he looked back at the dark lord with spite, "I would rather die expendable then live to be a traitor. Unlike you, I am not a machine. I actually give a damn about something!"

Vader tightened his grip, making the traitor's eyes nearly pop from his skull. "You…know… _NOTHING_ …about me!" With each word, Vader's voice became more feral and he shook the pilot violently. Vader cinched his grip more and more until he felt bones cracking underneath his gloves. He felt a vertebrae sever the spinal cord and felt all the bones he touched turn into dust. When he was satisfied there was nothing else to crush, he dropped the useless body on the floor. Even after that, his wrath was still not curbed.

Twenty-two.

Vanee, Vader's attendant, scrambled from his hidey-hole and moved the pilot's body into the lava river that flowed beneath the platform of the torture chamber. Vader heard the sizzle of lava meeting flesh, a sensation he knew all too well. Now he regretted not throwing the pilot into it alive, so that he may know the Dark Lord's anguish. Well, he could always save that for the next one.

After ensuring that the pilot's carcass was nothing but ash, Vanee hesitantly moved back towards Vader. His attendant seemed more pallid than usual, his lips trembling like he was about to speak but didn't dare utter a word. Vader had no patience for this.

"What is it?" Vader snarled.

Vanee seemed to jump out of his skin. He then bowed in front of Vader, "My lord, during your…interrogation, we received word from Grand Moff Tarkin. He is on his way here to discuss a suspected rebel hideout near Eriadu."

"Deny him! I have other matters to attend to."

His assistant cowered even more, "I misspoke, my lord. Governor Tarkin's ship is docking as we speak. I gave him the clearance code. I…"

Vanee didn't have the chance to finish that thought. Vader pinched his fingers together, silencing his attendant's voice and breath. Vanee didn't even bother to beg. He didn't squirm, he just kneeled on the floor, once in a while emitting a desperate gasp.

Reluctantly, Vader released the man from his grip. Now he pointed a cautionary finger, "Let this be a lesson learned, Vanee."

His attendant nodded earnestly while inhaling needed air, "Yes, my lord."

Convinced of his helper's fear, Vader turned on his black boots and walked briskly out of the room, "I will meet the governor in the docking bay."

Each step Vader took resonated loudly throughout the halls of his fortress. A march of impending doom. Vader's anger had always been strong, but lately it was boiling. It was an impassioned steam that controlled his every action. Hope given briefly then cruelly torn away did this to him. Now Tarkin was here. His presence would only provoke Vader even further.

The docking bay filled with a strong wind as the port opened. It caused Vader's midnight cloak to whip behind him. He stood tall with his arms folded over his chest plate. The shine of his armor glinted brightly under the harsh, fluorescent lights. It would have been an imposing sight for most anybody, but Tarkin wasn't just anybody. He was an entitled prick. Vader looked forward to the day he could humble him. Or kill him.

Tarkin's ship, _The Carrion Spike,_ landed easily on the platform. The ships entryway opened and showed Grand Moff Tarkin waiting in his perfectly tailored uniform. He flashed a false smile at Vader, which made the Sith lord want to kill him then and there.

With soft footsteps, Tarkin made his way down the gangplank to Lord Vader. His smile was broad as he sauntered, "Lord Vader, I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice."

Vader bore his gaze down on him, "Very short notice, Governor."

"I apologize." Tarkin mocked. "But this was a matter of some urgency."

Vader made a gesture they would walk and talk, "A rebel base near Eriadu." Vader stated.

Tarkin made a sucking noise with his lips. "Ah yes…Well, it seems I have a second apology to make. There is no rebel base."

Vader halted, "What?"

"I only told your assistant that because I know that's the only way you would see me. This is more of a personal visit."

"And what is so urgent that you had to put up such a pretense? I trust this isn't a proposal." Vader retorted, continuing his fierce walking.

Tarkin laughed an airy laugh, amazed that Vader could jest. "No, nothing like that. Although, in truth, it does have to do with matters of the heart."

Vader cringed. He knew where this was going. He could barely sleep anymore, and when he did, his dreams were haunted by the touch of her hands. Still, he tried to act unaffected.

"How interesting, Tarkin. However, I seem like the last person to bring such matters too."

Tarkin's smirk strengthened as he walked beside Vader, "I see you. I can see right through you _Lord_ Vader. There is still some light in that blackened heart you carry in your chest. You're not as…impervious to emotion as you pretend. You are still a man of the flesh."

At this, Vader grabbed Tarkin by the collar of his tunic and slammed him against the wall. However, he kept his voice flat and muted. "With respect, _Governor,_ I must insist that this none of your business."

A sadistic cackle built Tarkin's throat. "Oh but it is my intrigue! The mighty warrior the Emperor puts on such a pedestal and yet, you're no different than the rest of us. It is strange to think that somewhere in the Universe there is a woman pining for Darth Vader. Did you really think you were being noble leaving her? Were you trying to protect her or were you running away before she discovered you inadequacies." Tarkin looked down at Vader's lower torso with those words.

Lord Vader felt his fury bubble, but somehow, he managed to smile behind his mask. "I wonder who there is to pine for you, Tarkin. Would there be anyone to cry tears for you at the time of your passing? Tell me, are you here to find my insecurities or to overcompensate for yours?"

Finally, the smug sneer left Tarkin's face. Tarkin appeared to prickle under Vader's grip. He shoved Vader in the chest, but the Sith lord didn't budge. Eventually, Vader dropped the Grand Moff back on the floor. Tarkin straightened his shirt and smoothed down his hair.

"I think it's time I saw myself out." Tarkin sniffed.

"As do I," Vader agreed whole-heartedly. He watched Tarkin swiftly make his way to his ship and snipe at his pilot to take off. As he left, Vader let out a sigh. He hated that Tarkin managed to strike a nerve. He did have insecurities and he wasn't the emotionless god-like figure he pretended to be. Still, Vader did the right thing. If Pamila remained safe being light-years away, he would endure the phantom feelings of loneliness that visited him at night.

Not wanting to wallow in self-pity, Vader called out to his attendant, "Vanee, ready another prisoner for questioning!"

Number twenty-three.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

"Is this a break up?" Pamila kept on asking herself. It had been two weeks and she still wasn't sure what she was feeling. In some ways, she was trying to act like it didn't matter. As far as she was concerned, she did a good deed and then the man she helped went back home. That's the way it was supposed to be. She should be grateful she could help him and let him resume his normal life.

 _Normal life._

Was that "emperor" normal? Or that creeper Tarkin? Was the fact that Vader called the emperor _master_ normal? That is what got to her the most. Someone like Vader could be subservient to someone. She couldn't imagine Vader taking a knee to anyone.

 _Maybe to propose…_

 _Shut up brain! You're so stupid!_

Vader had warned her about the empire and of her ignorance, but she had been too entranced to see it. Now she saw her folly clearly.

She picked up her large purple purse and her keys, readying herself to go to her car. Still she had not brought it to the shop to fix those scorch marks. She had no idea how to explain it. Now it was just a painful reminder. A smoldering reminder of a whole other world somewhere out there, where a man in a dark suit of shining armor resided.

Pamila scoffed at herself, _Gee, could you make that sound any more cheesy? I don't think you could._

Pamila made her way downstairs, focusing on what she knew for sure. The power had come back suspiciously after Vader left. Along with most of the other systems that had been knocked out. The internet and cell towers with still on the fritz. The news called it an unexplainable phenomena, but Pamila was pretty sure it had something to do with that icky emperor.

Trying to shut up her mind, she unlocked the prius's door, got in quickly, and then put her hands on the steering wheel.

 _Hands…Metal hands…His hands_

She shook her head again. _NO!_ _You're going to go to the rest home, you're going to smile, do your job, and not think of space men or…him. Just focus on the work._

So Pamila did just that…mostly. The local rest home was just a few blocks from her house. She had been volunteering her services there once a week for the last two years. At first the staff there was resistant on the validity of energy healing, but when the overall health and wellbeing of the residents improved, they were more than happy to welcome her back. She had made friends with a lot of the residents. Only a select few refused her help. The more religious ones mostly. They were worried it was blasphemous and unholy. Of course Pamila respected their wishes. She would never presume to "correct" a person's beliefs. Still, she couldn't help but long for the day when her work was a little more respected and less feared or ridiculed.

She pulled into the center's parking lot and carefully parked her car in one of the cramped parking spaces. Pamila quickly got out of her car, hoping no one would look in and see the markings. She briskly walked through the front doors. Two nurses greeted her with wide smiles. Pamila smiled back, but she was still fighting her mind that was going a million miles an hour with distracting thoughts.

"Hi Pam! How are you doing?" Ann, one of the nurses, asked kindly.

Pamila did her best to make her face appear happy and light. "Good…Good… How 'bout you?"

Ann looked at the other nurse. Both were grinning from ear to ear. Then Ann extended her left hand. "Matt and I are engaged!"

"Aw, how wonderful!" Pamila tried to squeal happily. But in her head she thought, _Thanks Universe! I appreciate your constant mind games._ She was happy for Ann…for the most part, but this was just awful timing emotionally. Pamila tried to make her exit with a smile on her face.

"I'm gonna go set up! Congratulations again!"

"Ok Pam. Oh wait, I gotta tell you something." Ann called out urgently.

Pamila reluctantly waited, hoping the conversation had to do with men, love, or weddings. Ann bounded over to her.

"I just want to let you know we have a new resident and she is rather eager to meet you. She was a fortune teller. Madame Fortuna. She just showed up yesterday, we had no idea she was coming yet everything was already for her arrival. Kind of a strange lady if you ask me. She keeps on asking about you. She _ordered_ me to send you to her room when you showed up. Room 1B"

Pamila snickered to herself. A fortune teller named Madame Fortuna? This was definitely going to be an _interesting_ day. Pamila started walking that way. "Okay Ann, I'll go see her now. Hope she doesn't tell me I'm going to die." Pamila joked. Although the way things were going lately, a reading like that wouldn't surprise her.

When she reached 1B, the door was slightly ajar. Pamila raised her hand to knock, but a voice with a heavy accent called out.

"A door ajar means come in. So come in, my dear, come in."

Pamila couldn't place her accent. Maybe eastern European? Russian? She wasn't sure. She pushed the door open slowly. Inside was a bold room that could but her apartment to shame. It was like what a fairytale gypsy caravan would look like. Beads on the walls, incense, candles, silken cloths of many luxurious colors. And in the center of all this was a small, hunched woman with long white hair sitting in a wheel chair facing the open window. Pamila could see she word a silken white nightdress and a floral shawl.

Pamila cleared her throat, "Madame Fortuna? Ann said you wanted to see me. I'm…"

"I know who you are, girl. I have eyes!" Madame Fortuna interrupted. "You're the healer. Healer by birth." She gestured for Pamila to sit in the vacant chair beside her. Pamila complied quickly. Madame Fortuna stared hard at Pamila, as if examining every inch of her face. Every nook and cranny. Pamila fidgeted in her seat. Madame Fortuna took Pamila's hand and traced her palm with bony finger."

"A frayed heart line. Just as I thought. You are in pain, but you try to bury it," Madame Fortuna started to speak. "A man…a dark man has left his mark on your heart. You have left your mark too. Now you both hide in your work. One to heal, the other to destroy. Both puppets in one man's eye."

Pamila blinked. Did she dare admit the truth to this old woman? She decided to play dumb, "What are you talking about?"

The old woman giggled, "Oh, still trying to hide it, are you? Nothing can stay buried forever, my dear. You have found the heart of a dangerous man as he has found yours. Now your thoughts focus on each other. Stars apart, yet ever connected. Death cannot keep you apart." To emphasize the point, Madame Fortuna stretched her arms out. "Yes! Yes! Connected, unbreakable! But beware the puppet master! He plays you. He plays you both with little strings. The puppet master will use pain to gain his darkest desires."

Pamila finally indulged this conversation, "Who is the puppet master?"

Madame Fortuna hands shook as she brought them together in a prayer-like steeple. "A man with yellow eyes. The one man your Love would bow too."

Pamila sucked in a breath, "The emperor."

"Yes, beware of him. Even now he plots against you. He will turn True Love into a powerful tool. A weapon."

Pamila went silent, considering the woman's words. Then she shook her head. "No… if you know all, then you know the emperor and Vader are galaxies away by now! They left. Besides, why would the emperor target me? I have no value when it comes to an empire."

With those words, Madame Fortuna placed a dark, wrinkled hand on Pamila's chest. "You have a heart. A heart full of love and kindness. He does not. He needs it. He does not want romance, but he needs to use your heart somehow." At this, Madame Fortuna went quiet. "I cannot see his full intent. He guards his thoughts closely."

Pamila leaned back, trying to absorb everything she just heard. "Why are you telling me this?"

Madame Fortuna smiled. "There is not a lot of people who can cure the almost departed. And not many who can retain a good heart after such cruelty you faced in the past. You needed an ally. You use your gifts to help others. Now I help you."

Pamila smiled and gave Madame Fortuna's hand a squeeze, "Thank you. I will think about what you have said. For now, I gotta go see other people and 'bury myself in my job'."

Madame Fortuna smiled and nodded for Pamila to go. Pamila made her way out the door, but she had one more question to ask. She turned on her heel and re-opened the door.

"Madame Fortuna, how did…" Pamila shut up when she realized she was talking to an empty. No beads, no smoke, and no Madame Fortuna. Just a beige medical rooms.

Pamila's eyes widened, then she leaned against the door frame and let out her breath in a puff.

"Yup," she grumbled to herself. "It's going to be one of those days."

… … … … … …

Yoda's consciousness rushed back through the cosmos, returning to his body with a large jolt. Yoda was glad that was over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up that charade. He only utilized it because he thought that would help Pamila believe him easier.

No longer an earthly woman. Now just a tired, old Jedi. He drew in a large breath and slumped in his meditative position. That took a lot of energy and a lot of communing with the Force. But he did it. Pamila was at least warned of the danger. Yoda would not let Palpatine get away with another terrible master scheme.

"Too old and too weak to stop Palpatine, I am." Yoda spoke to himself. "Maybe not the hands of a Jedi are needed, but the hands of a healer."

Pamila was warned. Now all that was left was the will of the Force.

 ** _Sorry, not real Star Wars-y. Just a bit more character development on Pamila and her reaction to the "Not Break up" ;) More ruthless Vader and Rebels to come…and of course Palpatine. Still cooking up his evil plan. And more dreams for Pamila. What will she see? Till next time : ) Thanks for all your support: )_**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **Present Day: Underbelly of Coruscant**

Threllba cautiously made his way down into the lowest level of Coruscant. The home of scum and the downtrodden. Bounty hunters, assassins, brothels, and of course small rebel factions. These are the type of people the Emperor wanted to use? Threllba knew there was more to this plot. There always was. Threllba grew up in the Underbelly. Its horrors were not new to him. However, he didn't want to lose another foot.

He lost the other one to prove his dedication to the rebels. Willmeif, the leader of this rebel band, tortured all who entered his domain. Even his most loyal of followers. He felt that was the only way to gain the truth. Plus he thought it was character building. Made his followers strong. Even his rebel group had a cheery name: Freedom with Blood. Fun!

Threllba finally made it to Willmeif's, a back room behind a club. Threllba knocked the code. Hesitantly, a twi'lek slave girl opened the door a crack. She was covered head to toe in chains and little else.

She asked him the passcode question: "When will we have freedom?"

Threllba gulped, "When the Empire drowns with rivers of blood."

With that, the girl opened the door all the way. Threllba hobbled in with his one functional foot. The room was somewhat large, but poorly lit. The walls were a depressing shade of either brown or grey. Graffiti and anti-empire propaganda was scribbled all over the walls. In the far corner in a rickety wood chair sat Willmeif surrounded by twi'lek women. He was a tall, brutish human, rippling with muscles and deep scars on sun-exposed skin. He had a razor sharp jaw line and buzz-cut grey hair. He was almost seven feet tall and with an even larger bad attitude. He could take out wookies easily. Willmeif's lieutenant, Rarrath, was one of the wookies he used to brawl with. Now he was Willmeif's right hand man.

Willmeif saw Threllba and let out a puff of spice he'd been smoking. He yanked the girl's chain, bringing her towards him. Then he looked back at Threllba.

"You've come back," He spoke with a rasp. "I hope you've brought me a present."

Threllba tired his best to look amused yet fearful. "That depends, ya see. Depends if you like info on Darth Vader."

Willmeif and Rarrath both perked up, pushing the girls away from them. Willmeif studied Threllba with ice blue eyes, "I hope it's something more than his favorite color."

"Ain't nothing like that," Threllba protested. "Word is Vader gots himself a lady friend."

Willmeif burst out laughing, "From where? A droid factory? Cuz ain't no woman fallin' for that guy. Where'd you hear something so stupid?"

Threllba didn't skip a beat, "Couple of troopers from the 501st were "investigating" a club. I heard them talkin' about Vader pining for some girl. Pamila Jenkins is her name. Vader met her outside the Outer Rim few weeks back."

Willmeif scrunched his eyebrows and scratched his chin, "Rumor has it Vader went dark for three days a few weeks back. Must be when he met this lady." Willmeif glanced back Threllba. "What's her location?"

Threllba scoffed, "It ain't like the troopers wrote down her coordinates, Will. I'm working that part out."

The rebel leader raised a finger in warning, "You just do that. Don't come back till you do. I want that girl. Vader must pay for all he's done."

… … … … … …

 **Two days after Threllba's meeting: Imperial Space**

"Stay in attack formation." Vader barked into his comlink. He was leading a TIE fighter garrison in an attack against a suspected rebel freighter. The fighters descended in a V formation behind him.

"Acknowledged, Lord Vader." The troop commander responded, the rest of the troopers followed suit.

"Don't let them make the jump into hyperspace. Target the shield generators." Vader ordered. Vader had received word that this freighter hauled stolen Imperial weapons. Lord Vader was still trying to pinpoint the exact rebel group in charge, but he believed it was a ploy by an up-and-coming rebel group called Freedom with Blood. They were mostly rumors now, but Vader was determined to nip them in the bud. For some reason, Vader felt he _needed_ to crush these malcontents and quickly.

Vader's battalion got ready for a bombing run. They dipped toward the large freighter, their canons hot and ready to fire. They swung low at the roof of the cargo ship, opening fire on the spherical shield generators. With only one well-aimed blast, Vader destroyed one generator. It took a cacophony of his troopers' blasts to destroy the other. Still, they were disabled nonetheless. As they made their way away from the freighter, one of Vader's fighters bumped slightly into another.

"Are you capable of conducting yourself properly or should I put you on _indefinite_ leave?" Vader roared into the comlink.

"Sorry, my lord. Just still haven't recovered from the last recon mission."

"I do not accept excuses, Sergeant!" Vader snapped. True, this was their third recon mission in a week, but his troops needed to be strong enough to handle that. There was no room in the Empire for weakness.

"Lord Vader, I have replacement troops standing by," Captain Piett suggested through the comlink on the _Executor,_ which was hovering above them, waiting for their return.

"Negative Captain. Your orders are to keep the _Executor_ prepped for launch." Vader reminded Piett harshly. Then he turned his attention back to his troops. "Form a blockade around the freighter. I am preparing to board."

Vader had done this maneuver several times, to the astonishment of his troops. His suit allowed him to survive in the vacuum of space and he could propel himself with the Force. As his battalion formed a line in front of the freighter, Vader unsealed the hatch of his TIE Fighter and ejected. He spun in space, but only for a moment. Quickly he regained control. He manipulated his trajectory to the nearest hatch on the freighter. Lightsaber ablaze, he moved swiftly through space towards the hatch. The magnetic clamps on his boots latched onto the metal roof of the freighter. Feeling secure, with a two handed grip, Vader plunged his Lightsaber into the hatch. The metal door turned molten. Soon orange liquid dripped down into the newly accessible hull of the freighter.

Ignoring the sizzling heat of the metal, Vader deactivated his blade and jumped through the hatch. He landed in a crouched position. As he stood, two human men burst into the hull. They were armed to the teeth with blasters and grenades. As soon as they caught a glimpse of Vader, they started shooting at him. Vader merely extended a gloved hand, absorbing the energy of the blasts. When the shooters paused, Vader released the gathered energy of the blasts in a strong plasma bolt. With one concentrated shot, Vader sent his attackers flying back. Their bodies smashed against the metal walls of the ship. Vader strode past them with little acknowledgement of his handy work.

Vader moved through the halls of the freighter with ease, making his way to the bridge. To his surprise, it was relatively devoid a crew. That was not too uncommon. It was easier to hide during random inspections.

Nearing where he know to be the bridge, Vader was intercepted by a woman. She was covered with gruesome tattoos and wore tight fitting combat gear. Vader stopped, waiting for her to make her first move. With a battle cry, the rebel unsheathed a knife and charged at Vader. When she was in range, Vader stretched out his arm and wrapped his hand around her throat. With his free hand, he used the Force to knock the knife out of her hand. He easily lifted the pathetic woman off the ground. She tried pushing and hitting his arm, but his grip never loosened.

Vader was losing his already limited patience, "Where were you taking this cache of weapons?" he demanded coldly.

She didn't respond. Her gasps become more breathy and feminine while lips quivered and her chest rose and fell. However, Vader knew this was all a ploy to gain sympathy from him. He didn't feel swayed in the least.

"Don't think your womanly wiles will affect me. I am more than comfortable killing scum like you."

Suddenly, the woman started laughing. "Oh, I have heard all about you and women. Freedom with Blood knows all about your whore from outside the Outer Rim."

Vader tightened his grip even more, making the woman gasp for air. No! She couldn't be talking about Pamila. It wasn't possible. Still, Vader needed more information.

"What do you mean?" Vader asked fiercely, feeling the woman shiver at his words. To her credit, she still held on to her smug demeanor.

"The woman called Pamila," the woman spoke between desperate gasps. "We know all about her. And soon, Freedom with Blood will crush her in front of you, you monster!"

Vader's grip was now nearly lethal. He could see the rebel's face turn sickly purple, but he didn't care.

"How did you come by this information? How!" he barked, his deep voice a near growl.

Air deprived, she just snickered. "Drop dead."

With his grip still secure around her neck, he moved to the nearest airlock. His bulk and magnetic clamps holding him down, he programed the airlock to open. The sudden opening sucked everything not secure out into space. The woman's dark hair whipped at the side of her head, being pulled towards the opening. The only thing keeping her from oblivion was Vader's death grip.

"Tell me your source wench and I will end your life humanely. Deny me and you will suffer an even worse fate." Vader warned harshly.

The rebel eyed the deadly opening with fear. Vader could almost see the thoughts rushing through her mind. He could feel the conflict, the temptation to give in. Then he felt her resolve.

She turned to look back at him with a toxic glower, "See you in hell, monster!"

Those were her final words. Vengeful, Vader released her throat want watched her get blown out the airlock. Her screams were dreadful but suddenly silenced as she entered the nothingness of space. With that out of the way, Vader signaled the _Executor_ to take the freighter into its cargo bay. His garrison of TIE fighters made their way back to the star destroyer while Vader waited in the freighter as it docked his ship.

The Dark Lord felt his rage boil within him. Pamila…they knew about Pamila. How was that possible? Had Tarkin spread this rumor to spite him? It seemed likely. Captain Piett maybe, but Vader doubted it. Piett was too afraid to cross Vader in anyway. It had to be Tarkin.

Unless….

 _No!_ Vader thought to himself. _There would be no purpose in him spreading this information._ Of course, there could be another perspective Vader was unable to see.

That was always the way with the Emperor.

Vader felt a slight thump as the confiscated freighter was secured within the _Executor's_ cargo hold. Vader opened the entryway of the freighter and stormed down into his flagship. Stormtroopers nearly leapt out of their armor in order to move out of the Dark Lord's way. Officers stopped stiff as Vader brushed past them.

The Sith lord was making his way to his private quarters. When he arrived, he snapped at the operating computer.

"The Emperor. Now!"

 ** _Hope you all like this Chapter! I know it's a bit "Dark", but I can't help but feel particularly proud of this chapter. Maybe because I like when Vader is a little violent. Hope you all are having a wonderful day! Be safe and have fun! Til next time_**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

Wrapped in a purple comforter, with a white cat at her feet, Pamila tossed a turned. Her dreams vivid and alive:

 _She was in a large palace with white ornate walls, large windows, and tall spires. The outside world looked pristine and perfect with its majestic mountains, forests, and snowcapped peaks. Suddenly, she heard someone cough beside her. She turned to see a tall man with tan skin and well-groomed black hair. It was greying slightly, along with his finely trimmed beard. He wore regal attire. A well fitted grey tunic with buttons on the side with a short cape in the back graced him with a royal presence. More importantly, he looked very upset. He kept on pacing back and forth on the shiny floors of the grand room. He scratched at his chin nervously._

 _The large silver doors to the room opened suddenly. Two women walked in. A middle aged woman with long black hair and a teenage girl with stylized brunette hair. They rushed over to the anxious man._

 _"_ _Bail, what is going on? What is so urgent?" the older woman inquired._

 _Bail placed a hand on top of her outstretched one, "Breha, my darling, I must go back to Yavin 4. There is a situation that must be dealt with. A radical group claiming to be part of the rebellion has arisen. They call themselves Freedom with Blood."_

 _"_ _How ghastly," the woman interjected._

 _"_ _Indeed. The Rebellion must act swiftly. This group could discredit everything we fight for. They are brutal and will not hesitate to kill anyone who crosses them. I must go immediately to deal with this threat."_

 _The younger girl perked up, almost giddy-like, "Can I come with you, Father?" Once again, Pamila felt a strong connection to a person in her dreams. Like the boy before, she felt drawn to this girl. The need to protect her was strong._

 _"_ _No Leia! It's out of the question!" the older woman scolded._

 _"_ _But mother, I…"_

 _"_ _Your mother is right, Leia. In this instance, it is too dangerous." Bail placed a hand on Leia's cheek lovingly. "All I care about is your safety, my princess."_

Against her will, Pamila's dream shifted.

 _Now she was on her back, bright lights shining down on her. For some reason, her abdomen felt like it had been ripped apart. She was so tired, she just wanted to let go. Her legs were propped up and held open by a strange contraption. It would have felt awkward, but she was too exhausted to care. A weird robot stood by her feet, making her jump slightly. Pamila's head turned to the side. There she saw a man with a rusty beard and reddish-brown groomed hair standing beside her, holding a baby. Was it his baby? Did she just have a baby? He was speaking to her, pleading, but she had a hard time understanding him. However, she did catch one thing:_

 _"_ _Don't give up Padme!" His English voice pleaded._

 _God, she felt so worn out! She didn't know how much longer she could keep her eyes open._

 _To her surprise, she felt herself speak. But it wasn't her, it was dream her. It wasn't her voice. Even the voice sounded tired, breathy, and strained._

 _"_ _There's… good in him." She spoke, barely managing to get the words out. "There's still…"_

 _Then there was nothing but darkness. Nothing but silence. An unending stillness._

 _It felt like death!_

With a terrible jolt, Pamila sat up in bed. Her legs kicked involuntarily, sending Sekhmet flying. Pamila was panting, rubbing her chest as if to check there was still a heartbeat there. She was sweating, feeling it cling to her silken night dress.

What the hell was that?!

Leia…Padme…Bail… all these names sounded so familiar. And what was that emperor's name again? Palpatine? Yes, even that sounded familiar now that she thought on it. Yet all these names felt like memories buried deep within. And Freedom with Blood? Ick!

God she had migraine now! She pushed the covers off her and stumbled into the kitchen. Her hands trembled as she filled a small glass with water. It took four tries to open a bottle of Advil. She shoved a gel cap in her mouth, gagging as the pill slid down her throat. She drank the water hastily.

 _Just a dream! It was just a dream!_

But she just died in that goddamn dream! She had a kid! What the hell? There was robots, and castles, and strange men with beards. And Leia, what was it about the girl? What was the connection?

 _Isn't the answer perfectly obvious?_ Her brain snarked.

"No! Not really!" Pamila yelled back at her brain.

 _You're an energy healer with New Age beliefs. Wouldn't it be obvious that this is your past life resurfacing? God, you are so slow sometimes, I really wonder why I stick around."_

Pamila ignored that last comment. But her brain did have a point. Past life regression? It was possible. She did believe in such things. But Pamila brushed that suggestion off. It was crazy! What kind of past life involves robots and castles?

Then again, she would have never believed about a person like Vader existing either.

Padme…Leia, where had she heard these names before? Pamila couldn't help but shake. Her knees got so unstable, she slumped down onto the kitchen floor. Sekhmet, in a moment of uncharacteristic caring, came over and rubbed her cheek on Pamila's thigh. Pamila stroked her cat, but her mind was still laser focused on her dream. Her head throbbed, her body shook, and her mind raced a million miles an hour…

What the hell was happening to her?

 ** _Hope you like this chapter! It's short, but I just wanted to squeeze some past life/ Padme connections in there. And I couldn't leave out Leia and the Rebellion. Luke but no Leia? That would be like a star wars sin! More Vader in the Future and possible temporary team up with the Rebellion? We shall see! And Freedom of Blood learns about Earth and possible team up with Tarkin. Soon to Come! Till Next time! Be safe and thanks for all your support!_**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 **Present Day: Imperial Space, the** ** _Executor_**

"What is it exactly you are accusing me of, Lord Vader?" Darth Sidious scoffed haughtily. The holoimage of his head loomed over a kneeling Vader.

Vader paused, trying to remain calm, trying to be tactful. He planned on being ruthless in his inquiries, but as soon as he heard his master's voice and felt his eyes, Vader felt subdued and small. "Nothing, my Master. I simply want information. Did you or did you not release information about Pamila to a rebellion faction called Freedom with Blood?"

Sidious paused for a moment, as if considering his words, " _I_ would never release information to such an abominable group. In fact, I remember tasking you to eliminate such groups. My foolish apprentice, tell me, what would I gain by divulging this information? How would that help the Empire?"

Vader was so fueled with anger, he couldn't keep his thoughts in order. Vader _knew_ there was more to this. There had to be. He just couldn't see it. On the surface, he didn't see how that would benefit the Empire or why his Master would do such a thing. Unless…

"Are you testing me, my Master?" Vader asked coolly.

Sidious audibly scoffed, "And have you become distracted? I think not, Lord Vader. You're the one who decided to leave her there alone and unprotected. I am not responsible for the consequences of that action."

Darth Vader went quiet, letting the sound of his respirator fill the room. He tilted his down to the floor, a gesture of subjugation. Then, almost like an innocent child, he asked: "Do you promise you didn't tell them about Pamila?"

Darth Sidious smiled, "I assure you, I did not breathe a word to the rebellion."

After that, the Emperor killed the transmission abruptly, leaving Vader alone in a dark, lifeless room. Vader began to shake violently. This was wrong. He couldn't just stand by and let the Emperor play his little games. Not again. He couldn't stop him from letting Padme die, but he would not let the Emperor take Pamila away from him. The only thing that kept Vader's shriveled heart beating was knowing Pamila was safe far away from him. Now even that was threatened.

He had to stop his Master, but how? Who could he trust? Tarkin? Definitely not. Piett? Yes, but only to a certain extent. Piett would fold under any scrutiny from the Emperor or the ISB. Who else was there that would be bold enough to go against the Empire and want to eliminate Freedom with Blood.

Then the answer seemed obvious. . .

Bail Organa.

Vader had long suspected the ruler of Alderaan of having ties with the Rebellion. However, Organa was clever enough to cover his tracks very well. Plus, in the days of Anakin Skywalker, Bail Organa had been a trusted confidant of Padme while she was a Senator along with Mon Mothma. Also, it seemed a safe assumption that the majority of the Rebellion found Freedom with Bloods tactics deplorable. So perhaps Vader would have to call on the beloved senator.

He would have to be tactful. Bail Organa would never admit to serving the Rebellion to Vader outright. It would have to be a conversation of hypothetical truths. A game of words.

With his mind all but made up, Vader signaled for Captain Piett to come to his quarters. When the captain arrived, Vader didn't waste any time.

"Set a course for Alderaan!" he order sharply.

Piett looked stunned, "Alderaan? But sir, what business needs to be settled there?

"You have your orders captain!" Vader's deep voice rumble the warning. "Now I suggest you execute them to the fullest. Set course for Alderaan."

Captain lowered his head. "As you wish, my lord."

Vader gave a wave of his hand, signaling the captain was dismissed. As Piett left, Vader began to prepare his cover story. Lord Vader moved to his meditation chamber, took a meditative position, and then sealed the hatch.

… … … …

 **Present Day: Alderaan**

Bail Organa heard a knock at his door as he packed for his extended stay at Yavin 4. He sealed his travel cases and turned to the noise.

"Come in," he said in a commanding voice. One of the palaces attendants shuffled in. He looked dazed and edgy. He wrong his hands nervously while he avoided making eye contact with Organa.

"What seems to be the matter?" Bail asked the attendant, his tone soft.

His attendant took in a long breath, then exhaled audibly. When he appeared to be more grounded, he began to speak. "My lord, I must inform that Lord Vader has just landed on the platform. His ship managed to evade detection. We tried to delay him, but he has made his way into the Great Hall. He is waiting for you."

Organa's heart began beating rapidly. Lord Vader here? No, it couldn't be. Threepio and Artoo were luckily on a mission with Captain Antilles. But Leia! She needed to be hidden kept far away from the monstrosity that was her biological farther.

"Where is the princess now?" he asked more harshly than he intended.

Now the attendant took on a more confident role, "She is with the queen in the lower town overseeing an affordable housing project. We have sent people to... keep them there. I suspect there will be something in the lower town they must attend to for a while." His helper finished as if reading Bail's mind.

Organa let out a sigh, releasing some tension. He moved toward the attendant and patted his arm lightly, "Thank you, my friend. Please tell Lord Vader I will meet with him shortly."

His assistant bowed his head and made his way back to the Great Hall. Meanwhile, Bail Organa was struggling to keep his breath under control. His chest heaved with anticipation and a small amount of rage. He knew Leia wasn't _his_ by blood, but he didn't want to stand next to the man who sired her either. Leia was Bail's daughter, not Vader's. He had no right to be anywhere near Leia! He should just stay in the fiery pits of Mustafar!

Bail leaned his weight against the back of a chair and hung his head low. Taking in slow breaths, he reminded himself Leia was away from the palace and Vader's appearance probably had nothing to do with her. He just needed to meet with Lord Vader, say what he needed to say, then get him the hell off Alderaan!

Feeling centered, he began walking towards the Great Hall. His pace was brisk, not wanting to waste any time. Soon he reached the impressive doors of the hall and entered. Slowly pacing in the center of the room was Darth Vader, his menacing black cape flowing behind him. The glint of his Lightsaber was a reminder of a constant threat which set Bail's teeth on edge.

Vader seemed to either be oblivious to Bail's presence or just chose to ignore it. Probably the latter. Vader was not easily confounded. Either way, Bail cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

With that, Vader finally turned to look at him. "Senator Organa, I trust my arrival is not too much of an inconvenience for you." Somehow, Vader managed to make everything he said sound like a conceited threat.

Organa took in a breath, trying to be calm. "An inconvenience? No. Worrisome? Yes. You are rarely the bringer of glad tidings. So, what infraction has Alderaan committed that the Emperor felt it necessary to send you here?"

Vader closed the gap between them, making Bail feel very uncomfortable. Soon the Dark Lord loomed over him. "You assume too much, senator. I simply have come for a conversation and not about your…pointed opinions of me. The Emperor is unaware of my presence here. I prefer it stays that way."

Bail Organa arched an eyebrow. All he wanted was an off the record conversation? Where was the catch?

Bail allowed the corners of his mouth to turn slightly upright, "Never again will I assume you are predictable, Lord Vader. You never struck me as the conversational type. Tell me, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Vader suddenly meandered away from Organa and stared out a large window. He was silent for many moments. Then he finally spoke, "Senator, have you ever heard of a group called Freedom with Blood?"

Bail gulped. What were the chances Vader wanted to talk about Freedom with Blood exactly when Bail was going to the Rebellion to have the same discussion? Very slim.

"Yes I have." Bail answered hesitantly. He hoped his reluctance would not be noticed.

Vader continued to stare out the sunlit window, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Bail couldn't help but notice Vader's fingers twitched. It was atypical for Vader to show any hint of emotion. Now Bail could almost detect a sense of desperation.

"They trouble me," Vader's deep voice admitted, his synthesized breathing sounding even more wretched.

"Me too," Bail couldn't help but admit. "They have already hurt so many innocents in a short amount of time. I'm afraid of the damage they can cause in the future."

Vader's fingers twitched a little less. "For once, senator, we are in agreement. This group has no honor. No dignity. I do not condone any group that stands against the Empire, but at least the central rebellion group has honor. I would rather fight an enemy with honor. I would rather this be a battle over principles than a battle of bloodlust and vengeance." Vader turned to look at Organa now. "Wouldn't you agree, senator?"

Quite frankly, Bail had no idea what he was agreeing to. It was clear that Vader was trying to say something without actually saying it. But what?

Bail decided to keep the extent of his thoughts caged. "I agree that any…confrontations should not involve people who didn't agree to be a part of it. I agree people should fight with honor. And I too can never condone Freedom with Blood."

Bail half expected Vader to jump on that remark and grill him on if he supported other rebel groups. But to Organa's surprise, Vader remained still and calm.

Vader turned back to stare through the window, "I can't imagine the true Rebellion is content with the appearance of this radical group. They could ruin everything the Rebellion claims to fight for."

Bail felt his pulse quicken in his neck and wrists. Was Vader on to him? He tried to play it cool. "I am not in a position to know the Rebellion's opinions, Lord Vader."

Unexplainably, Bail thought he felt Vader's eyes roll. However, if he was annoyed, he didn't verbally express it. Instead, Lord Vader kept his voice level. "Still, it's easy to imagine that they want this faction destroyed as much as _we_ do, senator. It is a very rare instance when the Empire's and Rebellion's goals overlap." Vader paused for a while. He leaned his hands on the high windowsill. Then his voice took on a clearly fake and exaggerated sorrowful tone. "If only there was a way to communicate that to the Rebellion. When it comes to matters of Freedom with Blood, I want the Rebellion to know the Empire will not interfere with any potential plans to destroy this radical group. In this case, we will look the other way."

Bail's eyes widened. Now he was understanding what Vader was trying not to say. The Sith Lord _wanted_ the Rebellions help. In a strange way, he was almost asking for their help. Never in a million years would Bail have expected this. Vader faced groups like this in the past and dispatched them with ease. What had changed that Vader would take this precaution? He must have a personal stake in all this. But what?

Senator Organa knew his next response had to both agree with Lord Vader yet remain non-incriminating. He swallowed as he began to spoke. "I think it's likely the Rebellion is making plans to thwart Freedom with Blood. I assume those plans would be executed better without Imperial interference. As you said, it is rare for their goals to overlap with ours, and I am sure they will take advantage of the situation."

With that said, Vader's fingers stopped their anxious twitching and his back stood a little straighter. He turned to look at Bail again. Vader appeared to be more relaxed (as much as a mass murderer could be) and in turn, Organa relaxed too.

Vader stood akimbo and his body language conveyed the conversation had ended. "Of course this is all conjecture, senator. I will take my leave of you." As Vader began to walk, he stopped and stared directly into the senator's face. "No doubt you have important work to do."

Bail Organa didn't flinch. He could read in-between the lines. He just stared back into Vader's mask and nodded his head once, "Indeed I do."

With that settled, Vader walked out of the room at a quick pace, not uttering a word. With him gone, Organa let out a relieved sigh and rubbed his temple. That was one of the strangest conversations of his life! Vader wanted his help. Vader agreed with him. Even worse, _he_ agreed with Vader! An undeniably strange day!

Bail glance out the window and saw a TIE Fighter fly past, making its way out of the atmosphere. Vader had left Alderaan. Leia was safe. Her father asked for Bails help. Was this an unofficial truce? Certainly it would not last. And if it didn't play out to Vader's satisfaction, what would the consequences be?

Why would Vader come to the Rebellion to ask for aid? Even unofficially. To all of Bail's knowledge of Vader, the dark lord was an unwavering loyal servant to the Emperor. What had changed? What was Vader afraid of losing?

Bail decided he needed to find out, but first, he must go to Yavin 4.

… … … … …

 **Present Day: Underbelly of Coruscant**

Tarkin had never ventured to the Underbelly before. It certainly lived up to its reputation. Dingy, corrupt, and downright deplorable. As he walked through the narrow and dimly lit streets, Tarkin kept a constant hand on the grip of his blaster. Spice dealers, baggers, ruffians, and lunatics were in abundance. With their appearance and cloths looking so poor, Tarkin felt rather overdressed in his formal attire. He had death troopers secretly flanking him of course, but he thought it best not to have obvious body guards.

The Grand Moff wouldn't be even in this part of the galaxy had in not been for an enticing rumor. According to one of his trusted feelers, it was said that news of Vader's infatuation had reached the ears of a certain rebel group. A fiendish faction called Freedom with Blood who dabbled in the darker side of interrogation tactics. Now that they knew of Pamila, they were now desperately searching for exact whereabouts. And Tarkin, being a gentlemen, was more than happy to oblige.

Why? It was simple in Tarkin's mind. Vader didn't _deserve_ love. He was a machine and a brute. Machines don't get to have women hanging off their arms. Instead, "men" like Vader deserved to watch their love crash and burn. And what better way to torture the great Dark Lord then seeing his beloved tortured by a hideous rebel group?

Besides, it was a golden opportunity for Tarkin. What does a damsel in distress need? A gallant knight. Once Pamila was captured and in the rebels' custody for a time, Tarkin would swoop in and be her saving grave. Also giving him more status within the Empire. He would claim Pamila right under Vader's nose…so to speak. Tarkin could not help but admit that Pamila had been haunting him. His thoughts, his dreams, his every day. She was a beautiful creature. A creature he deserved by his side. He would have her or no one will. Especially not that dark abomination!

During his ruminations, Tarkin arrived outside Freedom with Blood's alleged headquarters. He signaled for his death troopers to stand by his side. Two dozen in all. A small army that could easily overthrow these paltry rebels. One trooper kicked down the door with ease, the rest of the battalion flooded the now open entryway. Startled rebels leapt out of their skins and hid in corners or stood flush against the walls. All except two. A large man and an even larger wookie. They sat defiantly in their rickety chairs, glaring at Tarkin at his troops.

The bald man with broad shoulder let out a puff from the death stick he had been smoking. "I ain't one for company. Especially the Imperial kind."

Death troopers frisked the rebels, confiscating weaponry and contraband. Tarkin looked at this and shrugged his shoulders glancing back at the rebel leader. "It appears you don't have much of a choice, Willmeif. Lose lips and all that. You have a leak."

"And you have come to plug it up, sir Grand Moff?" Willmeif sneered, Rarrath goading him on.

"Oh no! No, nothing like that. In fact, I come with an offering. A piece of information I know you covet."

Rarrath roared in digression and Willmeif chuckled. "Governor Tarkin barges into my home and wants to give us gifts? I don't think so."

Tarkin had expected trepidation. It did not deter him. "Not even if I say a name. A name of a young woman. Pamila."

At this, Willmeif straightened, "What about her?"

Tarkin smirked. He had their attention now. "I can give you her location. But I do ask for one small favor."

"And what's that?"

Tarkin's feral smile widened "Make Darth Vader suffer."

Willmeif smiled in agreement. "Guaranteed."

Tarkin gave the deranged rebel leader the star coordinates of earth and the coordinates of Pamila's residence on Earth. Now Tarkin would gain leverage over Vader. Now Tarkin would get his long-overdue prize.

… … … … …

 **Present Day: Imperial Palace, Coruscant**

Palpatine sat behind his ostentatious desk. On his desk was piles upon piles of requests and bills from the Senate. Most asking him to relinquish part of his power, others asking for more leniency within the law. All were full of bleeding-heart idealism that would never come to light. Not as long as Palpatine reigned. He would make sure of that. While the Sith ruled the galaxy, fear sustain peace and order.

There was a knock on his office door. A special knock. It indicated it was ally, Mas Amedda, and that he had vital information.

"Come in, my friend." The Emperor called out.

The tall blue man with his senatorial robes walked in. He seemed perplexed yet happy. Palpatine could feel his urge to speak.

"Well Amedda, what seems to be so urgent?" Palpatine asked, motioning toward a vacant chair.

Mas Amedda sat hurriedly, twiddling his thumbs. "It all went according to plan. You were right about everything."

Palpatine raised an eyebrow, "Vader?"

Mas Amedda nodded, "He went to Alderaan just ask you predicted. Captain Piett informed me he went to see Bail Organa for no specified reason. Just as you said it would be."

Palpatine showed his teeth in a smile. "And what of Governor Tarkin."

"He went to the rebel base, exactly where Threllba said it was. It appears he gave them the girl's location. You were right, you highness."

The Emperor leaned back in his chair. "I am pleased that these events have unfolded as I have foreseen. Now all the components are in place. I can almost hear the time bomb ticking away."

Mas Amedda nodded in agreement then asked shyly, "And what of the girl?"

Palpatine chuckled in his throat, "Oh, she's occupied with ghosts of the past. Her old life has come to haunt her."

 ** _Sorry this was a long chapter. I'm just trying to get all the plot points in place without having this story becoming a zillion chapters long. Hope you all like the new perspectives of Tarkin and Bail. Their perspectives won't be the new norm, but it was nice to throw them in there for a nice change-up. Thanks you all for reading : ) Have a great rest of your day._**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 **Present Day: Chicago**

Live and learn: Kitchen floors were not meant to be slept on. Sometime in the middle of the night, Pamila had fallen asleep. As she woke, she stretched out her back and felt the stiffness there. She felt he back pop as she elongated her back. Pamila groaned. Suddenly she missed those nights on the couch with Vader.

 _Don't go there!_ Part of her brain urged.

She couldn't stop herself. She missed him. She missed his breathing, his comforting presence. At least she had somebody to talk to when she got home. That was a nice change of pace. Now it was just her and the cat . . . again.

Well, and her creepy dreams. What was with them anyway? What exactly was her subconscious trying to tell her? Was is a past life or was it just her brain messing with her? Still, the names of Padme and Leia circulated through her mind.

Pamila stood up on creaky legs, her knees resisting the newly added weight. With a loud exhale, she leaned against the kitchen counter. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the shiny microwave door. She was a mess! Her hair was a bird's nest and her eyes had visible bags underneath them. On her pale cheeks, she could see a rosy hue on her cheekbones. A tell-tale sign of a fever.

A sick day was not an option. She had clients who depended on her. She had to at least try and work. If it was too much, she would call and cancel her appointments. God she needed an assistant!

Scratching her scalp and yawning, Pamila made her way to her bedroom. On auto-pilot, she picked out some skinny jeans and a somewhat glittery blouse. She dressed on autopilot, and did her bathroom routine on autopilot. She wasn't really there. She might have well been light years away…

 _Good job of not thinking about stuff that remind you of him._ Her brain remarked sarcastically.

Pamila rolled her eyes at herself. She was a lot less self-critical when Vader was around. Maybe because half the time she thought he could read her thoughts, so she didn't dare think anything bad about herself. Something told her he wouldn't stand for that.

She moved out of the bathroom and slumped face first onto the bed. Why couldn't she think about anything else? She could start thinking about the conflicts in the Middle East and the poor refugees and somehow her brain will go back to Vader. Pamila blamed it on this room. It's where she first took him after she saved him, it's where they had their first conversation, and it's where he showed her his "disabilities", although she knew he was anything but disabled. She had shared her painful memories of being institutionalized and her hidden gifts with him and he had been so kind. He was so perfect. Maybe he couldn't give her a kiss or…other things, but somehow he made up for it with his quiet caring ways. With his strength and grace.

And then that damn fortune teller! Just when she was trying to get everything back to normal, that strange lady put her back into a funk. Warning her about that eerie emperor and then she just disappeared? What the hell? Why couldn't she just live a normal life where she accidently spills coffee on a cute guy at Starbucks then they hit it off and start dating? Why did her life have to have spaceships and emperors and fortune tellers in it?

 _Because you're crazy._ Her brain answered.

Pamila rolled her eyes again. Her and her brain would never be friends. Either way, she had to get out of this room and go to work. She was starting to sound like a Nora Roberts character. Pamila lifted herself out of bed, put on some flats, grabbed her purse and marched out the door. This was going to be a normal day, damn it! She didn't care how much the universe liked messing with her. She was going to have a boring, uneventful day even if it killed her!

She got in the car, ignored the scorch marks, and started the engine. She pulled out of the parking lot in a hurry, barley missing an incoming car. Her foot rarely left the gas pedal. She was doing a 40 in a 35. Then 45, then 50. She turned a corner, hearing her tires squeal. Pamila enjoyed the rush. She was always so cautious, time to cut lose! She was tired of living in her safety bubble.

 _He would want you to stay safe._

"Shut up brain! Who asked you?" Pamila yelled at her brain. 55, 60. Quickly she reached highway speeds on a little side road.

Red, White and Blue…Red, White, and Blue.

 _How patriotic!_

Those colors lit up her rear view mirror. When she heard the sirens is when she realized she had gone too far. A squad car was right on her bumper. Pamila decelerated and signaled she was pulling over.

 _At least getting pulled over by the cops for speeding is normal._ She told herself, giving herself a pat on the back for being a normal terrible driver.

Pamila's car stopped on the shoulder of the road, the cop car not far behind. She pulled out her license and registration and held them in her hand on the steering wheel. She heard the cop get out of his car. She glanced in her side mirror. Damn! It was that Officer Collins who asked her about that crash. God, couldn't she at least have a cop pull her over that didn't remind her of Vader? Did everything have to revolve around him?

 _Thanks Universe, Thou art a heartless bitch!_

Soon Collins sauntered to her driver's side door. She slowly rolled down the window and gave a half smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he took off his sunglasses and looked hard at her.

"Miss Jenkins?" He asked with an arched eyebrow.

She gave a little wave with her index finger, "Guilty. Would you like the usual stuff, Officer?" She finished, wiggling the paperwork in her hand.

He looked quizzical stuff for a moment, "What? Oh! Yes, Yes, of course." He gently grabbed them from her hand, but his eyes lingered in the car. He had seen the dreaded char marks on her dash and passenger seat. She really should have fixed that sooner.

"Um, what is that?" he asked with a pointed finger.

She glanced over, trying to act blasé. She shrugged her shoulders. "Seems like it's been there forever. I had an interesting passenger a long time ago." Pamila paused, seeing Collins wanting more info. But she wasn't going to give it to him. It wasn't a crime to have a singed car. She finished with a simple remark, "It does not affect my driving."

With that said, Officer Collins seemed willing to let the subject drop. "Yeah, about that. I was surprised to see that it was you driving. The background check showed no indication of past reckless behavior."

Now it was Pamila's turn to raise an eyebrow, "You did a background check on me?" She shouldn't have been surprised. He was investigating a spaceship crashed into an abandoned warehouse. Of course he would run a background on his only suspect.

Officer Collins blushed, "Ah, well…yeah. Because of that warehouse…fire." He remarked carefully, not daring to say anything "confidential". He glanced back at her registration and license, pointing at his squad car, "I'm going to check on this. Hang tight."

She nodded slightly, "No problem." He watched him leave. She chewed herself out. Before she met Vader, she would have been checking him out, ogling his walk. Now she felt nothing. All she felt was longing for Vader. Did he feel the same way?

 _Her mind flashed an image. She was in a stone room lit by a fire place. She was standing, talking to a short haired young man. Pamila could feel her body was confined in an overly-tight outfit that exposed her shoulders. She could feel the heat of the fire on her skin. The mood felt romantic yet tense._

 _"_ _Then you do feel something?!" The guy asked slash demanded. His tone sounded desperate as tears gathered in his eyes._

 _Pamila felt her shoulders tense. Once again, she was her but she wasn't she felt the same yet completely different at the same time. Suddenly she felt "herself" speak to the young man._

 _"_ _I won't let you give up your future for me."_

And then she was back. Back in her Prius and about to get a ticket. She let out a loud breath and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Oh god it was happening again! She wasn't even asleep! This wasn't happening. Normal life, that's all she wanted, a normal life! Not flashbacks to some unknown one.

Pamila took three deep breaths. There was a perfectly logical explanation for all this. She was coming down with a fever, she barely slept last night, and she was over worked. So, there was nothing to worry about. Still, she couldn't stop herself from gripping the steering wheel out of pure desperation.

She didn't even hear Officer Collins return. He knocked on the side of the door to announce himself and she leapt right out of her skin. He jumped as she jumped.

"Whoa! Didn't mean to scare you. You alright? You look really flushed." He asked, his voice full of concern.

Pamila nodded and tried to smile, "Yeah, just a cold." She grabbed her stuff back from him and smiled up at him. "So officer, you going to give me the bad news now?"

He chuckled and looked down at the ground. He shuffled his weight a bit, "Not today, Miss. I think I'm just going to let you off with a warning this time. But you should go home and get some rest."

Pamila rolled her eyes as she nodded. "Yep. That's probably a good idea."

Officer Collins tapped her car with his knuckle and began walking to his car, "See ya later, Miss Jenkins."

Pamila watched him drive away. Still pulled over, she reached for her cell and called her clients to cancel. Most of them were sympathetic and she was grateful for that. With that out of the way, she pulled a U-y and _slowly_ made her way back home.

… … … …

 **Present Day: Yavin 4**

All the loyalists to the Republic gathered around the holographic round table. Most were former or current senators and generals. They were riveted by Bail's account of Vader coming to Alderaan and unofficially soliciting the Rebellions help. Of course, there were those who were concerned with this turn of events.

"It's a trap!" Admiral Ackbar proclaimed. "Lord Vader is just throwing dynamite in the water to see what comes to the surface. He is using you to get to us!"

Bail thought on this, but shook his head. "You weren't there admiral. He was not himself. This was not the hard-hearted enforcer we have all dealt with. Vader was almost the epitome of desperation. Of course he tried to hide it, but if you saw how twitchy he was, you would not be so jaded."

Admiral Ackbar seemed to bristle at that comment, but Mon Mothma placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Let's focus on what we know to be true." Mon Mothma spoke calmly. "And the truth of the matter is we were going to silence Freedom with Blood regardless of Vader's untimely visit. And now we know Vader has a specific interest group as well. Why? We don't know, but it doesn't matter. What matters now is gathering data on this terrible, terrible group. So gentlemen, what is it that we know?"

One pilot spoke up. "We know the leader is a human named Willmeif and his lieutenant is a wookie named Rarrath. Rumor has it they are located somewhere in the Underbelly. And their targets don't seem to be in a pattern. They are so chaotic, it is nearly impossible to anticipate their next move."

Bail leaned back and scratched his chin. Did Vader know their next move? Perhaps there next target was something Vader held at value. Or someone.

"I have theory," Organa began to speak. "However, it is a bit far-fetched, so bear with me. Mon Mothma, you said it doesn't matter why Vader is interested in this group, but I think it does. There has been groups like this before and he eliminated them without giving us a second thought. Why would he risk treason and seek our help?"

"Because it's a trap!" Ackbar exclaimed once more, but was shushed.

"Keep going, Senator." Mon Mothma replied.

Bail bowed his head in appreciation, "If Vader is risking coming to us, there must be something he is worried will be hurt by Freedom with Blood. Or…"

"Someone." There rest of the assembly spoke in unison.

Bail nodded. "A month ago, it was said Vader went off the grid for a few days. And we have all heard the stories from crewman aboard the _Executor_. Vader has never been so cruel…which is saying something. Aside from that, has there been other rumors surrounding Vader that could shed some light on this mystery?"

A lot of members from the congregation shook their head. Some looked down as if thinking back. Finally a young man spoke. He was essentially the assistant to the assistant of an aide of the Emperor.

"There was one thing," The young man spoke. "But it seemed so crazy, I thought was a lie. But there was chitchat bout Vader and a woman he met outside the Outer Rim. Apparently she rescued him when his ship crashed. And it was about the same time you said he went off the grid. Rumor has it the Emperor and the Grand Moff went there personally to retrieve him and meet the woman who saved him."

Bail couldn't stop his jaw from falling like a stunned child. Neither could his constituents. Vader was saved by a woman? Willingly? Was his recent actions not so much cruel but instead moping? He wasn't only angry, he was also pining. Now it was beginning to make sense. Freedom with Blood must know about this woman and Vader was trying to intercede before they can get to her. He was protecting her. Like a wolf guarding a den.

Bail and Mon Mothma's eyes met. He could tell she reached the same conclusion. She sighed and looked down, her arms bearing most of her weight as she leaned against the table. The realization that underneath all that armor, Lord Vader could still feel. There was still a beating heart somewhere deep inside. The shifty, dumbfounded glances of everyone in the room showed they knew as well.

"So," Admiral Ackbar broke the silence. "Lord Vader is in love."

"That isn't the point," Bail scolded harshly. "The point is Vader gave us a clue to Freedom with Blood's next target. Also, he has unofficially tasked us with protecting this woman. If we fail… I don't even want to imagine the consequences of failure. We need to get to Freedom with Blood before they can get to her."

The group nodded in agreement. It was settled. Mon Mothma turned to the young man who shared the rumor. "What can you tell us about this planet outside the Outer Rim?"

The boy gulped. "Well, I wasn't supposed to, but I overheard someone say the name Earth. And Mas Amedda left a paper on his desk that had these navigational charts…"

… … …. …. … …

 **Two Days after Bail's meeting on Yavin: A Coruscant News Room**

 ** _(This footage was confiscated by the Government from a HoloNet gossip show and was not aired. The staff has been eliminated.)_**

"Good Morning Coruscant! Beautiful morning! Well, things have just been hopping here in the news room. You know we try to bring you the latest and best dish, but we have outdone ourselves today! This piece of gossip is just too spicy and too good, we couldn't keep it to ourselves! I bet none of our lovely viewers will guess who today's dish is about…Darth Vader! That's right! The Empire's man in black is in the spotlight today. And who would have guessed he is a heart-throb? I sure didn't! Our most trusted sources say that a month ago, Lord Vader got lost and crashed into an unknown planet. Cue the pretty lady! According to all sources, a young woman named Pamila came to the dark lord's rescue, even letting him stay in her bedroom! WOWZA! Bet you didn't see that coming, huh? Hunka- Hunka!

And according to all reports, this Pamila is quite the darling and has done the impossible…ladies and gentleman it appears she has stolen Darth Vader's heart! I know, it is totally shocking! Rumor has it that even now Darth Vader is yearning and pining after this young woman. Sources say he is barely functioning, moping the halls of his flagship like a sick puppy! I never thought he would never have a long-term relationship aside from the Emperor! Bet you anything Pamila is better looking than that old coot!

So what does this mean? Could there be a Mrs. Vader in the future? We in the News room are all abuzz! We think there could be! Out of all the people in the galaxy, we never expected to hear wedding bells for Darth Vader! Will he go back to this mysterious planet and sweep her off her feet? We'll let you know! Now to these commercial messages."


	28. Chapter 28

**_First off, I want to say thank you for your patience! I know this chapter won't be the greatest, but I hope you all will enjoy it all the same. I'm trying to make these future chapters longer so this story doesn't become a major chapter monster! :p_**

 ** _Just a heads up to all readers: In this chapter and future chapters, there will be graphic scenes revolving around violence and torture. I will try to keep them as toned down as possible, but still there will be some gore. I am just warning in case some readers do not appreciate that. I do NOT want to cause any triggering or discomfort! I want my readers to feel comfortable reading this story. However, after all the gory chapters, there will be some more cuddle, romance chapters. So if you like torture and brutality, great! If not, I just ask you to be patient. There are good times ahead for Pamila and Vader, they just have to get through this dark & dangerous time first._**

 ** _Thank you to all who have commented, fav, and followed! : ) ;) I appreciate your support soooooooo much! Thank you!_**

 **Chapter 28**

 **Present Day: Mustafar**

No longer was he a man. He was a savage. Lord Vader had lost all control. Dangling from spiky chains above a lava pit was a member of Freedom with Blood. Sweat beaded the man's forehead. His face was a collage of colors. Greens, blues, purples, and blacks. The edge of his eyes, nose, and lips bled out in warm red streams. The points from the chain dug deep into the flesh of Vader's newest visitor. All the result of Vader's exhaustive interrogation.

No longer was Vader meticulous or calculated. Not once had he called upon the Force. Now he reveled in brute strength. He enjoyed the sensation of his fists rupturing organs and breaking bones as he pounded on the criminal over and over again. Vader basked in the groans and pitiful pleas he elicited from the rebel. Vader never was one to "give a beating", but he was just so infuriated, he couldn't control himself anymore. The only thing that could satisfy him was this barbarity.

Lord Vader had picked up this miserable excuse for a man from the Underbelly. Supposedly he was in close contact with Freedom with Blood's leader, Willmeif. Now Vader needed the exact location of their hideout. Also, news had reached Lord Vader's ears that is time with Pamila was known across the galaxy. Rumors were everywhere about him and his precious Pamila. Vader narrowed down the source of the leaks to somewhere on Eriadu, Tarkin's planet.

Vader channeled all this fury into the next punch he landed in the rebel's gut.

"I'll ask you again, fiend. Where is your base? Where is Willmeif?" Vader tried to keep his voice calm, but somehow managed to make the stillness of his tone sound threatening.

The prisoner hacked up some blood, spilling on the ground near Vader's boots. It didn't matter. They were already caked with blood from various victims. When the prisoner still didn't answer, Vader placed a gloved hand on a pressure point on the man's neck. He squeezed it with all the strength his mechanics could muster, which was significant. The man cried out, but still he did not release any information. After a time of excruciating pain, the prisoner managed to grin.

"Can you hear it?" the prisoner slurred, his voice barely audible.

Vader relaxed his grip, "Hear what?"

The captive's sneer widened. "The sound of your love screaming. Screaming out for you to save her as her bones break and her flesh is severed. Screaming out your name only to have it fall silent. You think you are a master of torture? This is NOTHING compared to what awaits your precious Pamila. Her screams will fill every hole in this galaxy and the next! All because of you! I hope her cries haunt you until you die!"

Vader was done. He dug two gloved fingers into one of the man's open wounds, causing the prisoner to cry out in pain. Vader pulled at the wound, causing extreme agony. The rebel prisoner shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip so he didn't scream. His muscles flexed, which only caused the spiky chains to go deeper into his skin.

Vader sneered malevolently behind his mask as he watched the man's pain. "As you were saying, rebel scum, where is your base?"

The rebel shook his head, "I'll never tell you."

Now using the Force, Vader lowered the pulley that held the prisoner's chains. The rebel's bare feet now barely touched the lava's surface. Now his screams almost killed his vocal cords.

Vader simply crossed his arms across his chest plate. He leaned his head forward as if he was listening. "Forgive me, I didn't quite catch that. Can you repeat the location again?"

The rebel's eyes were filled with tears of pure fear, desperation, and agony. Vader could feel the prisoners will begin to crumble. Suddenly, the captive let out a pitiful cry.

"Club AlphaNeon! The backroom! There! There! Just kill me!"

Vader smiled to himself, "As you wish."

With the Force, he released the chains from the pulley. The prisoner's whole body fell into the lava, his death screams bouncing off the black walls of Vader's fortress. And then, there was nothing but silence and the smell of charred flesh.

With that piece of business out of the way, Vader made his way to the hanger bay at an aggressive pace. His footsteps echoed menacingly in the dark passageways. Using a control on his belt, he prepped his Fighter for takeoff. Then he signaled Piett with his comlink. Never once did his pace falter.

"Yes sir?" Captain Piett voice answered obediently from the comlink.

"Prepare the _Executor_ for my arrival. Set course for Coruscant. I have found the rebel base."

The captain's tone took on a touch of pride. "Yes sir! Right away."

Vader finally made it to his fighter and entered the cockpit quickly. The large metal doors of the docking bay slowly opened. Once they were, Vader sped his fighter out at top speed. He exited Mustafar's atmosphere swiftly, wasting no time in making his way over to the _Executor._ Once his ship was docked securely in the Star Destroyer, Vader made his way to the command bridge. There he saw Captain Piett commanding the bridge is his soft yet authoritative manner. However, when the poor captain saw Vader, his face flushed entirely. Vader walked toward him and stood akimbo next to him. Piett was instantly dwarfed in comparison to Vader's height.

Captain Piett's lower lip quivered slightly as Vader began to speak to him. "Has the course been set for Coruscant, Captain?"

"Yes sir. The ship is prepared for voyage as soon as you give the word, my lord."

Vader wandered to one on the trapezoid windows, staring at the darkness. Finally he had found them. Finally he could keep Pamila safe. He could save her the way he could never save Padme. He would be her monstrous saving grace. Finally, after so many years, he could finally be the man who saves the woman he loves.

"Launch."

… … … … … …

 **Present Day: Coruscant**

It did not take long for the _Executor_ to complete its journey from Mustafar to Coruscant. That was good. Vader didn't want to waste any time. Even on the bridge, his fingers seemed to dance over the hilt of his Lightsaber with anticipation. Despite what the populace thought of him, Vader didn't like all the killing and brutality. However, in this instance, he wanted to relish the fear in his enemy's eyes, hear the tone of anguish in the cries, and enjoy the sizzle of their flesh upon his blade. He wanted to rip them apart. Joint by joint, socket by socket.

Once in Coruscant's orbit, Vader gathered a small raid party and maneuvered them into a shuttle. It was low key, but Vader didn't need help. It was mostly formality. Vader took the pilot's seat, leaving the regular pilot to twiddle his thumbs in the back with the rest of the party. He set course directly for the Underbelly, not bothering with protocol or the fact that there was no official landing platform in the Underbelly. Still, he was not going to give the rebels a chance to run. He would land at the doorstep and slaughter them all.

Vader readied to land the shuttle in the closest open space near the club.

"Ready your weapons!" Lord Vader barked back at his crew.

Vader landed this shuttle with ease. As soon as the landing fins touched the ground, Lord Vader was already lowering the gangplank to let out the raiding party. Once the ship was stable, the party exited the shuttle, blaster rifles at the ready, the ends of the gun resting tightly on their shoulders, the barrels pointed at onlookers. Vader quickly joined them, the crimson glow of his Lightsaber illuminating the pavement in a reddish hue. His breath echoing off the pavement threateningly.

Some startled thugs reacted and shot at the troopers. They replied swiftly, shooting the criminals dead. They looked like they were ready to chase down more, but Vader's baritone voice stilled them.

"Leave them! They mean nothing. Focus on the mission!"

The troopers nodded apologetically. They resumed formation and trailed Lord Vader towards the club. No one got in there way this time. People made it a point to duck for cover. Before long, Vader and his troops made it to the dingy metal doors of Willmeif's headquarters.

Vader stopped momentarily, taking in the moment. "I have you now!"

One trooper readied himself to kick down the door, but before he got the chance, Lord Vader simply flicked his wrist and the metal door exploded inwardly. Stunned, the troopers hesitated before the entered the building. When they did, they found nothing but a dark empty room. Vader quickly followed them in, his breath getting louder and more intense by the second. The room was empty…spotless in fact. Like no one had ever set foot in here. Not a trace of anything! Vader did not think the rebel lied to him, he could feel his sincerity. No… there was only one explanation for this. Vader released a sound that approximated a bloodcurdling growl, causing the troopers to cover their ears. It shattered glass and crumbled cement columns.

Willmeif had been tipped off.

… … … … …

 **Two Weeks before the Club Raid: Imperial Palace**

Sidious could almost hear Darth Plagueis's voice now. He could hear his dead Master's disapproving tone as he told Sidious not to let self-pride get to him. Oh, but why should he not? Everything was working out perfectly as Sidious had planned! Soon Pamila would be in Freedom with Bloods custody. Soon she would be tortured for all to see, causing sympathy for her and in doing that, would spark sympathy for Vader and the Empire. It would destroy the rebels supposed foundation of morality and ethics! And if Pamila survived, Vader could claim her as the tattered damsel in distress.

But Plagueis! Old, foolish Plagueis! How blind he had been. If only if he had appreciated Palpatine more, he might have lived to see the Sith reclaim the galaxy.

Sidious couldn't help but laugh at the thought, _No, it's good he died a failure._

After that happy thought, Palpatine composed himself once more. He shifted mentally from being Darth Sidious to being Emperor Palpatine. He was in a conference room waiting for the spy Threllba. Palpatine let his body move a little slower, allowed his posture to appear frailer, and he clutched his walking stick tightly in false desperation for stability.

Mas Amedda popped his large blue head into the room. Palpatine smiled and waved him in. "Come, come. And bring the dug with you."

Mas Amedda didn't seem surprised Palpatine knew Threllba was with him. After many years of service, he was used to it by now. Soon, the one-footed spy hobbled into the conference room.

The Emperor took fake wobbly steps toward him, "Ah Threllba! I'm glad to see no other extremities missing."

Threllba snorted, "I'd like to stay that way, but that depends on what you're going to ask me to do this time."

The Emperor raised a silencing yet reassuring hand, "Nothing dangerous, I assure you. I simply wish for you to encourage to convince Willmeif to contact his… "source" on Eriadu. Tell him that your headquarters has been compromised.

Threllba raised a concerned eyebrow, "How do you know about the source on Eriadu? How…"

The Emperor raised a hand once more, but this time was more threatening. Palpatine's tone grew more menacing. "You don't need to know how. Just make sure Willmeif makes contact with your source on Eriadu and relocates his headquarters."

Threllba looked taken aback, but nodded hesitantly, "As you wish, my _liege."_ He finished mockingly as he left the room with Mas Amedda.

The Emperor snorted. He would enjoy killing that dug later. Now he went back to being Darth Sidious, a role he was much more comfortable with. He meandered to a nearby chair and sat, a wicked grin crossing his face.

 _Poor, poor Pamila! So sweet, so unsuspecting, so gullible. Not unlike your former self. Even lightyears away, you are subject to my will and desires. Fret not, dear child, for the pain will not last forever. Lord Vader will save eventually. But first you must serve your purpose. Serve me with blood and pain. I would trust no other with such a mission of this magnitude! You truly are a special child._

… … … … … …

 **Present Day: Eriadu, Tarkin Manner**

"And what do you call these ships?" Willmeif asked gruffly to the Grand Moff.

Tarkin regarded the small ships the rebel leader was pointing too. They were part of the supplies Tarkin had given Freedom with Blood in preparation for their upcoming "raid". There were over a thousand of these ships at the ready. They were collapsible, but when expanded they could only hold five people. There were fast and agile and could be armored with strong shields. What made them special was their frequency. Each one was identical to the other and the frequency rate confused most trackers, making it impossible to single out an individual ship. So one ship held the precious cargo while the rest acted as a mirage of decoys. Like a hustler's bar trick. They were of Tarkin's own design.

Tarkin smiled to himself, "I simply call them the Hive. They don't look like much now that they are collapsed, but trust me, they will do the trick."

"They better," Willmeif grunted. "I have been waiting a long time for an opportunity like this."

Tarkin placed a comforting hand on Willmeif's shoulder, blissfully ignoring the rebel's death glare. He let out a sympathetic sigh, "I know. Lord Vader has destroyed so many lives. The time for retaliation is long overdue."

Willmeif tried to stiffen his upper lip, trying to look tough, but Tarkin could see tears in his eyes. He changed the subject quickly. "Are all the other supplies ready, Mr. Grand Moff?"

Tarkin nodded, "For the most part. We are still waiting for some fuels cells and blaster ammo, but other than that, everything is accounted for."

Willmeif shuffled his feet like a child, "I guess I gotta thank you. I don't think Freedom with Blood would've gotten this stuff on our own. Especially not your _Hive._ And I still don't know how Lord Vader got our location."

Tarkin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front his chest. "Vader has a way of making even the most loyal people loose lipped."

Suddenly, Willmeif's eyes glowed with a fierce fire, "I will be more than happy to rip out his heart!"

"Indeed," Tarkin agreed solemnly. "Tell me, once the girl is in your custody, what demands will you make?"

"Demands? There will be no demands. My only request is that Vader watches with open eyes as crush the woman he loves. As I take her away. Slowly. Painfully. The way he took my Sheela from me." Willmeif muscular arms trembled with repressed rage. Then he looked at Tarkin with a fury that almost unnerved the Grand Moff…almost.

"When can we leave?" Willmeif asked in a murderous tone.

Tarkin smiled evilly in return, "I think we only have to wait one more day. Then you can claim your vengeance. You may leave when ready."


	29. Chapter 29

**_Here's another chapter of my ramblings ;) hope you are all having a good day : ) I gotta say that I like my readers quite a lot! And I say that in a friendly, non-stalker way ;) I think you are all adorable. I know I can't see you, but you all have adorable auras : ) thank you for all your support!_**

 ** _PS: Before writing this I watched Padme's funeral scene, then right after I watched Darth Vader's death scene. I gotta tell you it punched me right in the feels! I wonder if Vader thought of Padme before he died…probably because he was looking at a product of their love, Luke. Both Luke and Padme knew there was good in him. Aww the feels!_**

 **Chapter 29**

 **Present day: Coruscant, Imperial Palace; Meeting between Moffs and the Emperor**

The Emperor leaned back in his shell-shaped chair and sighed inwardly. The meeting had been going on for the last three hours and Palpatine was about to kill someone.

 _Look at them,_ he thought while staring at the room full of Moffs, regional mayors, and Imperial officers. _They all think they are something special. They don't see how expendable they truly are. Each think they are too precious to be replaced._ At that moment, most everyone was talking over each other. A simple discussion of taxation turned quickly into a full argument. Each person tried to say something "Intelligent" to try to impress Palpatine, but in truth it just irritated him.

There was one person who was uncharacteristically quiet: Grand Moff Tarkin. He had barely said two words since he sat down at the expansive table. Palpatine knew why and the reason pleased him greatly.

Freedom with Blood had unofficially relocated to Eriadu under Grand Moff Tarkin's guidance. Palpatine knew they were planning a raid to capture Pamila. Tarkin's silence was just evidence that the time for action was coming very soon. Just as Palpatine wanted. Just as he planned.

 ** _"_** ** _TARKIN!"_** A loud, deep voice boomed.

Darth Vader.

Lord Vader had barged into the conference room and stormed over to Tarkin. Before Tarkin had a chance to react, Vader already had a grip on his neck and began to throttle him violently. The other officials abruptly stood up from their seats and moved away from the black, homicidal figure.

"Where are they Tarkin? Where have you hidden them?!" Vader roared at the Grand Moff as he turned a deep shade of purple.

Every other official looked at the Emperor as if asking what to do. They were shocked when they saw a small smile play across his face. To put them out of their misery, Palpatine stood up sharply.

"The council is dismissed." After that, everyone hastily shuffled out of the room. All who remained was a happy Emperor, an enraged Vader, and a dying Tarkin. Tarkin's eyes kept darting over to Palpatine, pleading for help. But Palpatine just stood and smiled.

"My, my Tarkin. I do believe Lord Vader is upset. Do have any idea why that can be?" The Emperor mocked cruelly.

Tarkin's knuckles were visibly white as he tried to pry Vader's hands away from his throat to no avail. Still, he had enough energy to be snarky. "How should I know? He's your lapdog!" Tarkin barely managed to say in-between painful gasps. Vader tightened his hold on the Grand Moff. At this rate, Tarkin would be dead before he could answer any of Vader's inquiries. That just wouldn't do. Plus Palpatine needed Tarkin alive…for now.

In a calculated maneuver, Palpatine walked over to his apprentice, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. A gesture that was both a reassurance and a threat.

"Now Lord Vader, you should at least give the poor governor a chance to respond. Give him a little air." The Emperor tutted in a fabricated compassionate tone.

Feeling his Master's lethal hand upon him, Vader very grudgingly released Tarkin's deceitful neck. The Grand Moff sucked in a very loud breath and slumped onto the table, trying to take in as much air as he possibly could. He didn't know how long he had until Vader resumed his death grip.

Palpatine let a very sickly smile grow on his face as he watched Lord Vader and Tarkin stare each other down. Both were breathing heavily. Vader's dark demeanor towered over Tarkin's frail old body. The Emperor walked around Vader and stood in between the two men to prevent any preemptive bloodshed.

"Now, perhaps Lord Vader can _calmly_ explain the situation." Palpatine moved his body to look directly at Vader while also blocking his path towards Tarkin. "Lord Vader, what seems to be the problem?"

Vader's gloved robotic hands balled themselves into tight, trembling fists. His whole rigid body seemed to quiver in an unyielding anger. "Pamila…It…," Vader began, stumbling over his words. "I located Freedom with Blood's hideout only to arrive and find they had relocated! And I had previous information that my time with Pamila had been leaked to the press by a source on Eriadu. Now it appears the same leak is conspiring and assisting Freedom with Blood in a plot to hurt Pamila! _MY_ Pamila!" Vader roared, moving forward towards Tarkin but only to have his Master hold him back with an enormous amount of hidden strength.

Now it was Tarkin's turn to be defensive, "And just because the leak came from Eriadu, you think it's me? Believe it or not, I am not the only person on that planet!"

"Don't play innocent, Tarkin," Lord Vader bellowed. "Only four people know of Pamila and her _exact_ location! And only one of the four resides on Eriadu!"

"The press along with the Rebellion have always been resourceful. Perhaps they hacked the Empire and gleamed information about Pamila from a server." Tarkin retorted once his strength began to return to him.

Vader shook his head, trying to push past his Master but failing. "I wiped all official record of her myself! There is no electronic record of Pamila in any server. I'm going to enjoy killing you Tarkin!"

As Vader tried to get to Vader, Palpatine used very little effort to withhold him. The Emperor looked back at Tarkin, "I suggest you leave Governor. _Now!_ "

No sooner did the Emperor finish that statement did Tarkin get up from his chair and move toward the door. As he did, Vader tried to launch for him, but Palpatine intervened. Sidious slammed his apprentice into a nearby wall. The cracks forming behind Vader's body indicated much damage had been done to the wall. Using the Force, Sidious pinned Vader's limbs motionless to the wall. Sidious could hear Vader's respirator click in acceleration. The leather of Vader's suit scraped against the wall as he raged against his invisible bonds.

"He is a traitor!" Lord Vader yelled. "He deserves to die!"

Sidious's voice morphed into a toxic hiss, "A traitor you say? Then what proof have you? You accused the Grand Moff of helping a small and _alleged_ rebellion faction in an attempt to attack a non-imperial planet in order to apprehend a non-imperial citizen." Sidious paused, watching Vader as his words sank in. "It's not so very treacherous after all."

Vader turned his face away, avoiding his Master's gaze. "A non-imperial citizen." He mumbled.

Sidious nodded slowly, "That's right. Pamila has no legal claim in the Empire." With that, the Emperor's mouth turned upward into an evil smile. "Perhaps the Empire could've protected her if she was married to an Imperial citizen. But if I remember correctly, it was you who said that she had no business in the Empire."

"I didn't mean…I thought… I just wanted…" Vader tried speaking, but his voice kept getting tripped up in a river of emotion. This satisfied Sidious. He felt Vader's wounds were salted enough. When he saw Vader slump in defeat, Sidious released his apprentice from the Force that bound him.

In a moment of out of character weakness, Vader let himself slouch to the ground, crutching on hands and knees, unable to stand. The tall, dark, powerful enforcer of the Empire was reduced to pathetic groveling. Sidious watched as his apprentice trembled in this vulnerable position. It reminded Palpatine of a time long ago, when Anakin first kneeled in front of him, pledging allegiance to the Dark Side. All in order to save his pregnant wife. And he failed.

Now history was repeating itself. Once again the apprentice was subjugated before his master. It was truly clear in that moment who held the power and who was forced to cower below him.

And once again, familiar words were uttered by Vader: "Save her."

Sidious smirked, "Politically, my hands are bound."

Vader stomped to his feet, now looming over his Master, "I don't mean politically and you know it. Save her. Use whatever power you have at your disposal and help her!"

Sidious placed his hands on the top of Vader's arms and held him at length, "This is a test of your strength, your skill, and your power. Only _you_ , my dear apprentice, can truly save the ones you love."

… … … … …

 **Present Day: The** ** _Executor_**

The sound of air filling the sealed chamber flooded Vader's auditory system. Once the sensors showed an acceptable amount of oxygen in the meditation chamber, Vader began to remove his helmet and mask. He felt the mechanical arm lower and remove the tapering helmet. Then he felt the same mechanism painfully remove his mask. He felt the respirator move away from his damaged nose and mouth and he felt the neural needles get pulled from his skull. As agonizing as the process was, it was nothing compared to what was coming next.

Sidious's words had stuck with Vader. If Vader wanted Pamila safe, he had to take matters into his own hands because they were the only hands he could truly trust. He needed to warn Pamila about what was going to happen, about what malice was afoot. Vader got himself into a meditative position on the chair within the chamber. With his face freed from the confines of the mask, he could concentrate better on Pamila. He closed his eyes and let his mind sink into all the sweet memories he had of her.

Oh Pamila. Her sweet smile. Her wide blue eyes looking at him nervously when he first spoke to her. Those sapphires looking up at him lovingly each morning. Vader remembered how she used to trace her sweet little fingers over his suit, showing no fear. It made him smile. He remembered the first time she fell asleep next to him, her head slumping against his shoulder. He remembered how her thin body fit perfectly in his arms. Never in a million years did he think he would hold a woman like that again. He was curious of her because she was Padme reborn, but he had fallen in love with her because she was Pamila. Pamila the merciful healer. And Pamila, the gentlest soul he had ever met.

Loving feelings filled his heart, making him feel elation and regret simultaneously. Still, he let all those emotions fill in every crack of his soul. Vader made if fuel his power and power his connection with the Force. It made him stronger. Soon he felt larger than life. He felt his aura pulse.

Once he was content with his strength, he mentally reached out across the cosmos, seeking out Pamila. He just wanted her to hear his voice. Hear his warning. He spiritually stretched his reach, feeling the presence of Earth. Going deeper, he searched for his heart. Soon he found it. Found her. In his Mind's Eye, he was back in her apartment. It looked the same. Terrariums, plants, crystals, even all the mechanical waterfalls. And even Sekhmet was curled up at the end of the sofa. However, he did not see Pamila. Mentally he walked toward her bedroom door. In his mind, he opened it and found Pamila asleep on the bed. The purple comforter was barely on her. He moved to look at her face. In sleep, she clutched a pillow tightly to her. Vader could see the tears that stained the pillow. She had been crying. He grimaced at the sight because he knew he was the one to cause her emotional pain. And even now he was putting her in danger.

Since he was only there in mental form, hopefully she would not be able to see him. He just wanted her to hear his voice and heed his warning. Mentally, he sat at the foot of her bed. Since he wasn't really there, the bed did not sink under his weight. He slowly moved a mental hand toward Pamila and touched one of her hands that clutched the pillow. He took a gentle hold of his and rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand.

"Pamila, can you hear me?" he spoke, then cringed. His voice! Oh, how could he be so stupid! This was his real voice, not his suit's voice. She wouldn't recognize the voice of a sick old man! He needed the mask. He was about to break the mental connection when Pamila began to stir. She placed her other hand over his as her eyes fluttered open sleepily. She yawned, covering her mouth with the pillow before she opened her eyes fully. When she did, her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. Pamila sat up abruptly. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to say words, but they wouldn't come out. Cautiously, she moved forward toward him.

"Vader? Is that you?"

Now it was Vader's heart that beat rapidly from fear. Could she see him? He had no mask. He was vulnerable.

"Can you see me?" He asked, hating the sound of his real voice.

Her eyes still wide, Pamila nodded slowly. She inched even closer, making Vader more and more anxious. Soon she was on her knees, facing him, her body barely a few inches away from him. Slowly, she lifted up a hand, moving it carefully towards his unmasked face.

He flinched, "Don't"

She gave off a weary smile, "This is just a dream. Nothing can truly happen here."

Vader furrowed his brow. She thought this was a dream? Perhaps that was best. He did not want to cause her any more confusion and pain.

Bearing that in mind, Vader had to use all his resolve not to pull away from her soft hands as her fingertips brushed against his cheek. It was a kind touch and the first time someone touched his skin in decades.

Eventually, he let his light blue eyes meet hers. He examined her expression very carefully. He looked for the slightest sign of disgust, of fear. He could not find any. Pamila's face was full of wonder, curiosity, and tenderness. A smile began to form at the corners of her mouth. When she let her entire palm cup his cheek, he could not stop himself from sighing. Even if he was not physically there, he could still enjoy the softness of her touch. His eyes closed, trying to keep an unshed tear from falling.

"I've missed you," Vader heard himself admit.

Now her expression turned to surprise. She smiled a bit, "Really?"

He turned to look at her fully, he hand never leaving his cheek. He allowed one arm to wrap around her and pull he closer, filling in the space between them. "You seem surprised."

Now it was Pamila's turn to blink away some tears. "I just never thought you would miss me. I thought I was a fool for missing you." Her smile widened, but then shrunk suddenly. "Oh who am I kidding? This is just a dream. You don't really miss me. You probably on a spaceship with some hot alien girl. You're just saying what I want you to say."

Vader softly held her jaw in a gloved hand and looked at her sincerely, "I am not a man for false words and promises. I have never been more truthful when I say that being away from you is unbearable."

She tilted her head, looking at him doubtfully. Then she let out a little snort and rolled her eyes. She caressed his weary brow, "Oh! Why do you always have to be so sweet even in dreams? Makes it really hard for a girl to get over you."

Stunned, Vader tentatively placed a hand on her cheek now. She leaned into his touch. He wiped away a stray tear. When he was satisfied with the smile on her face, he moved his hand gently to the back of her head, lacing his fingers into her hair.

"Come here," he requested.

She complied.

Easily avoiding the neck brace that still surrounded him, she kissed him softly. It was simple, but it was more than enough. She cupped his face now with both hands. The touch was warm and electric, awakening every sense in Vader's body, demanding attention. Completely happy, Vader returned the kiss, deepening it slightly. Not too much, but enough to show how much he cared. She melted right along with him.

Gently, he pulled away. Her azure eyes sparkled with joy as her smile beamed. Her golden hair had fallen a little over her face, shielding her eyes in waves of honey. Vader brushed her hair back behind her ear. She smiled, moving closer to him again, but this time he stopped her with a simple touch on her shoulder.

"Pamila, there is something I must tell you." His eyes filled with sadness and his voice trembled slightly.

Pamila's face quickly turned concerned. "What is it? You seem so sad. Please tell me what is wrong."

He looked down, holding her hands softly in his own. "All I want to do is keep you safe. I need to warn you. There is…"

He couldn't speak. No matter how hard he tried to enunciate, his voice would not work. Suddenly, he felt himself slipping away. Being forced back towards the _Executor._

Pamila reached out toward him, but when her hands tried to touch him, they went right through him. Her eyes went wide with fear. "Vader? What's happening? Don't go!"

 _Pamila,_ he tried to say, but the words couldn't come out. In a blinding rush, he flew backwards. He flew out of the room, out of the apartment, past millions of stars and galaxies. He rushed backwards until he felt is soul meld into his body with a painful jolt. He sucked in a deep breath. What happened? He needed to go back.

That is when he heard a pitiful little knock on the side of his chamber.

"Lord Vader? Are you in there, sir? It's Corporal Bradly sir"

Vader, too angry for words, reattached his mask and helmet and unsealed the pod. As the hatch opened fully, Vader stood imposingly and marched toward the corporal. He moved forward at such an aggressive pace, he backed the terrified corporal into a wall. Then, with his thumb and index finger, he used the Force to cut off the young man's windpipe.

"Do you have ANY idea of what you just did?!" Vader boomed. "Your actions could cost a young woman her life!"

The pale face corporal was crying. His eyes were red and his tone was pleading, "Please…Sir! Free… Blood."

Vader loosened his grip, ignoring the boy as he gasped for air, "What about Freedom with Blood? Speak!"

"Anonymous source…says…on the move! Thousands of ships spotted!"

Vader gripped the boy tightly by his tunic, pulling him closer, "On the move to where?"

The boy gulped, "Earth. They will be there in less than an hour."

 ** _Ok, so there was a little romance ;) but next chapter will be a big battle scene where the Rebellion and Empire fight on the same side for once ;) That chapter may take a while, so don't hold your breath for too long ;) Hope you have a good day!_**

 ** _PS: I will be leaving for Florida for spring break in 2 days and I don't plan on doing much writing. So you won't see an update from me for at least a week :P For all the other spring breakers, I just say be safe and have fun! ;)_**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

 **Present Day: Earth, Chicago Police Department**

It was not Officer Collins's night. First, everything was down. Cell towers, electricity, satellites, the whole kitten-caboodle. Just like it had been a few months back. It made doing any "policing" nearly impossible. Plus there was an increase on battery thefts.

Currently, he was having an odd discussion with such a thief, but in this case, the thief turned himself in. He claimed he had seen something…aliens. A real kook! Big events like power outages tend to bring the crazies out of the woodwork.

"I know what I saw! There were thousands of ships in space. They were fighting each other. Green and red lasers were flying everywhere. There was explosions and everything. I could see it from down here!"

Collin's pinched the bridge of his nose. This would have been an annoying enough interview if he didn't have to conduct it in the dark with nothing but flashlights, "And I'll ask you again. Do you have any proof of what you saw?"

The thief slammed his fist on Officer Collins's desk, "I told you my cell wouldn't work! No one's does!"

Collins exhaled and leaned back on his rickety chair, "Well, I'm sorry sir, my hands are tied until I get proof. And even then, I'm afraid my jurisdiction ends just outside of earth's atmosphere." With that Collins gestured that another officer should take the man away.

As he got up, the man spit in Collins's general direction, "They're coming! They're coming!"

"All I care about now is that you're going!" Collins retorted while wiping spit off his desk. As soon as the crazy was forced out the door, a junior officer entered. He was holding a vanilla file folder and a tiny flashlight.

Collins looked at him and rolled his eyes, "Let me guess. Another string of battery thefts?"

The rookie looked confused and shook his head, "What? Oh no sir. It's a missing person case. It hasn't been even close to the allotted 48 hours, but a lot of people are requesting we look into it. Especially a woman named Ann who is clutching a cat. Apparently there appears to be a break in."

Collins's arched a blonde eyebrow, "Well, I don't know how much we can do during this freak power outage. Who's the vic?"

The rookie opened the folder, squinting to read the name under a flashlight. "Miss… Pamila Jenkins."

Now Officer Collins raised both eyebrows, "Get a squad car ready."

… … … … …

 **5 hours before Police Investigation: Yavin 4**

"Senator Organa! Senator Organa!" C-3PO ran over, R2 beeping at his side. They had just arrived with Captain Antilles. Senators Mon Mothma and Bail Organa were conversing with Admiral Ackbar. All three officials rolled their eyes at the sound of the protocol droid's voice.

Trying to force a smile on his face, Bail turned to the droid, "Yes Threepio, what is it?"

Threepio stopped his running and hurriedly began greeting Mon Mothma and the admiral before he actually got to the point. "Senator Organa, a reconnaissance ship has just informed us they have found Freedom with Blood's new base of operations."

Bail Organa started to wave off Threepio, "Tell them to monitor and report."

Threepio, in his usual flabbergasted way, raised his hands in frustration. "They did sir! That's the point! They have just sent word that Freedom with Blood is leaving Eriadu with an army of ships! Over a thousand strong!"

That got everyone's attention.

"How is it possible for them to get an army of that size?" Admiral Ackbar inquired.

"And more importantly, where are the going?" Mon Mothma mused.

Threepio waved an anxious, mechanical hand, "Based on their current trajectory, it appears they are heading beyond the Outer Rim."

All there official glanced at each other, "Earth!" They all said in unison.

"Given all the data, the chances of that seem very likely." Threepio agreed.

Bail Organa shot a glance at Ackbar, who nodded. Then the admiral unhooked an Announcer from his belt and spoke into it.

"Attention all units! This is a Code Red! All fighters to their ships! I repeat, all X-wings in the air now! Coordinates will be beamed to all fighters immediately! All medical units are now on stand-by!"

After the Rebellion was set in motion, Bail turned to Artoo, looking deadly serious. "I need you to do something for me."

Artoo chirped and beeped happily. Threepio looked at Bail, "He says he'll do anything sir."

"I need him to send a scrambled and encrypted message. Make sure it's untraceable."

Threepio nodded. "Of course sir. Who shall we be sending it to?"

Bail gulped, "Darth Vader."

Artoo whirled loudly and beeped erratically and Threepio took a few steps back. "Oh my! We're doomed!"

Ignoring the pessimistic protocol droid, Bail kneeled down to address Artoo. "I need you to tell him Freedom with Blood is heading for Earth. Tell him that they have an army. Can you do that?"

Artoo, always being brave, chirped a happy agreement and rolled toward the nearest communications panel. Threepio trailed behind him.

"Artoo, have you fried your circuits? I swear, one of these days you're going to be nothing but scrap parts and I won't feel the least bit sorry for you!"

Bail couldn't help but smile at the strange relationship those two droids had. But his happiness was short lived. Never before had the Rebellion been in such a precarious position. It seemed they were inadvertently fighting side by side with the Empire. And what if things went pair-shaped? How long would it take for the Empire to turn on them? And if everything went according to plan, then what? If the Rebellion saved Pamila, would they return her to the Empire or should they try to use her? Bail shook his head. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He moved to the observation panel and watched all the squadrons leave the atmosphere and head toward Earth.

"May the Force be with us," Bail Organa mumbled to himself.

… … … … …

 **2 hours before the Police: Chicago**

Traffic was a pain! All Pamila wanted was to buy batteries and some candles, but on the way back from the store, she found that she was playing a game of chicken at every intersection! The traffic lights were all down and people didn't know how to drive or understand the concept of taking turns. It was a white knuckle ride at every intersection. She almost got t-boned by three impatient, large jacked up trucks whose drivers were clearly overcompensating for something! Freud would have a field day!

A twenty minute errand took an hour and a half! Still, she managed to pull onto her quiet little street and headed home. It didn't help that she just woke up from a rather steamy dream about Vader and then the massive power outage happened again. Part of her worried that ugly-ass emperor was coming back, but logically she didn't see why he would. It was probably just an unfortunate coincidence. Then again, Vader looked very concerned and wanted to warn her about something before he shot out of the room.

 _Aren't you smart enough to know there is no such thing as coincidences?_ He brain chastised.

"Shut up brain! Who asked you?" She yelled at herself as she pulled into a parking space. She leaned over and picked up her groceries from the passenger seat. She got out of the car and made her way into her apartment. She made it to the door when she saw that is was ajar. The locks were burned and obviously damaged. Slowly and quietly, she placed her groceries on the hallway floor and reached inside her purse. She grabbed the hilt of the compacted nightstick she always carried with her. Pamila had never used it before. She was not a badass! But still, she had to at least try and protect her home. Right? Right!

In retrospect, she should have just called the police.

Pamila flicked her wrist dramatically, causing the nightstick to extend. Cautiously, she pushed against the open door. She couldn't help but gasp as she entered the apartment. It was all a mess! Dishes smashed to smithereens, furniture tossed and ripped, and plants and vases were all messed up. Someone had torn this place a serious new one!

 _Mew!_

Pamila looked down and saw Sekhmet slowly moving towards her. Her fur was disheveled and she wasn't putting weight on her front left paw.

"Oh Sekhmet!" Pamila cooed as she carefully picked up her pet. "Oh who would do something like this?"

"A desperate man," A deep voice said.

Nightstick in hand, Pamila turned and wailed on the source of the voice. Just as she was bringing the baton down to strike, a rough hand caught her wrist. The strange man tried to tighten his grip, but Pamila kicked him where "the sun don't shine" before he got the chance. He let her go and groaned. Quickly, she put Sekhmet down.

"Go to Ann's!" she shouted, channeling some Chi into her voice. Sekhmet looked at her obediently and then sprinted off. Pamila knew she would do as she was told. She thanked God in that instance she had a way with animals. If Ann saw Sekhmet, then her co-worker would know something was up.

Pamila turned again with another blow. This time she caught her assailant on the head. The large, gruff man staggered back, falling against a standing vase. Pamila advanced on him, hitting him with the baton repeatedly.

"No one hurts my cat!" She yelled.

 _Oh good! That's a real awesome one-liner!_ _Tony Stark you are not!_ Her brain snarked again.

It didn't matter. Pamila was too focused on beating this guy to a pulp. However, as Ra's Al Ghul would say, she never did learn to mind her surroundings. Pamila caught some furry movement from the corner of her eye. She turned to attack, but she moved too slowly. Before she knew what hit her, she felt something strike her over the head. All she saw was a big black spot, her floor turning sideways as she collapsed upon it, and then nothing.

… … … … …

Willmeif staggered to his feet with the help of Rarrath. The wookie looked at him with concern, but Willmeif brushed him off.

"I'm fine. Girl packs a wallop. Now her and Vader together makes sense." Willmeif joked as Rarrath chuffed beside him. "Come on, let's get out of here. Can't leave the ships outside the orbit forever. Take the girl"

Rarrath put his blaster away and roughly flung Pamila over his shoulder. They sprinted down the stairs and out of the building, making their way to the one ship they actually landed on Earth. The rest of the Hive was waiting for them outside the atmosphere. The swarm of ships could be run on automatic pilot if at least one ship had an actual pilot. One of Tarkin's ideas. Plus, with the jammers the Grand Moff supplied, Earth would never know they were here.

They reached the small yellow ship quickly. The opened the petit cargo bay and threw Pamila inside. Willmeif and Rarrath jumped into the pilot's chairs and took off.

"Tell the swarm we are coming back." Willmeif order Rarrath. Rarrath roared and did what he was told. Suddenly, the radar started beeping and lights dotted the screen.

Rarrath growled, asking what was going on.

Willmeif gave the flight controls to Rarrath so he could study the radar. He zoomed in to the incoming ships. X-wings.

"It's the Rebellion!"

Rarrath roared, _I thought we were the Rebellion!_

"The other one, you idiot!" Willmeif yelled as he pulled the ship out of Earth's atmosphere. He then entered the code for the Hive to enter attack formation and use their anti-tracking frequencies. Soon their ship was hidden within the large swarm. Just in time! Soon the large squadrons of X-wings was visible. Willmeif was getting ready to fire on the X-wings when all of a sudden another ship pulled out of light speed. A really, REALLY big ship. An imperial Super Star Destroyer.

The _Executor_ had arrived.

Willmeif watched as all the docking bays of the flagship opened. Out of each port flew garrison upon garrison of TIE fighters. Soon they surrounded the hive in a half-circle. Strangely enough, they ignored the army of X-wings. In fact, the X-wings seemed to situate themselves with in the rank of TIE Fighters. Willmeif raised an eyebrow. That was defiantly unexpected. Were they working together now?

Rarrath slammed his furry fists against the control panel. He exclaimed that they were about to die.

Willmeif allowed himself a smile. "Oh no. We'll be fine. We have precious cargo." Willmeif stated, gesturing toward the back of the ship. "They won't shoot us down." Still, Willmeif clenched and unclenched his own fists nervously.

"For Sheela," he mumbled to himself. A prayer as much as a statement.

…. … … … …

Under different circumstances, the thought of working side by side with the Rebels would make Vader's sickly skin crawl. But now Pamila was in grave danger, so he ignored the X-wings at the side of his Interceptor.

He switched his comlink to allow all access, "TIE Pilots, sync communications." Lord Vader barked.

There was the sound of static, but soon they were in contact with the Rebellion fighters.

"Who is leading your squadron?" Vader asked the Rebels harshly.

"This is Gold Leader. I am leading this squadron." Gold leader went quiet, then Vader heard him mumble, "Never thought we would be working with you."

Vader ignored him, "As you can see, Gold Leader, the criminals are controlling identical looking ships with identical frequencies. And our radar is unable to pick up heat signatures from the ships to identify which one has…the cargo." Vader paused, trying to compose himself. "It will make singling any individual out impossible. So therefore we must herd them all. The _Executor's_ tractor beam is standing by. We must maneuverer the enemy fighters into its range, then my troops will pick them apart ship by ship within the _Executor_."

Vader heard the Rebels murmurs of disbelief throughout the coms. Gold leader finally spoke up, "With all due respect, Lord Vader sir, there are over a thousand ships. How do you expect us to contain them, much less _herd_ them?"

"Your entire squadron and a third of mine will give chase to the scum while the other two thirds of my squadron maintains a perimeter. But no matter your post, there will be no lethal fire. I repeat, no lethal fire. Set canons for stun."

Gold Leader sighed loudly. "Whatever you say. Guess you're in charge now, boss. That must be how things work when you're a homicidal maniac."

After that, Vader tuned Gold Leader out. He sent the pilots their orders. When all were acknowledged, Vader readied himself for battle.

"Move in!" he commanded. On his word, TIE Fighters lines up in a perimeter, ready to stun any stragglers while Lord Vader and the Rebels moved in toward the Hive. In a synchronized movement, the Hive spit in two and tried to outflank Vader on either side. In a controlled spin, Vader shot his stun canons, immobilizing several of the ships that tried to out-maneuver him. He ordered two nearby pilots to push the inert ships into the tractor beam. Then he set back on his mission.

The Hive was fast. They could make sharp turns in an instant, which was aided by their compact and sleek design. They were bright yellow and orange and with there being so many of them, it confused even Vader's best pilots. Their movements were identical to each other, like groups of birds who mirrored each other's movements in flight. The Rebels and his squad were working fairly well together, given their sworn conflict. They showed impressive team work in trapping ships and herding them back to the _Executor_. Vader was not used to seeing X-Wings and Tie fighters flying side by side. Vader's concern was the perimeter. Lord Vader's pilots held the line fairly well, but more and more of the Hives ships tried to break the line. Many inert Hive ships just floated in space, waiting to be taken to the Star Destroyer.

Vader bore down on a dozen hive ships. With one stun blast, he immobilized the whole dozen. Perhaps their identical frequency mad them more vulnerable to stuns and effected more than one ship.

He opened up a communication channel, "Their hive mind is their weakness." Vader boomed into the com. "If in a large group, stunning one could stun several more. Target factions instead of individuals."

"Copy that!" Gold Leader hollered along with several other pilots as they began to break the Hive up into factions, stunning them with several shots. The plan seemed to be working.

Vader felt something he had not felt in a long time. He felt Hope.

… … … … … …

Willmeif cursed and slammed a clenched fist onto the control panel, "Damn that Tarkin! His frequency has made us vulnerable! Somehow that frequency carries the energy to multiple ships. We are more susceptible in groups. Order the Hive to separate!"

Rarrath roared loudly, reminding Willmeif that would make them easier to be singled out

"I don't care! Order the groups to spread out!"

… … … … … …

"Order the groups to spread out!"

Pamila groaned. What groups? Who the hell was talking? Why did her head hurt so much? She slowly raised a hand to her head and touched it gently. She could feel a big goose-egg beginning to form. Soon it all started coming back to her. The trashed apartment, Sekhmet running to Ann's, the nightstick, then she remembered seeing a blur and getting conked on the side of the head! Great! Her first fight and she got her ass kicked!

Pamila took a look at her surroundings. She was in a cramped, yellow space which made her feel cluster phobic. She felt the space jar the then left and right, like it was on the move. She could feel the hum of an engine beneath her as the vehicle suddenly moved upwards. Up? Cars don't go up!

 _But spaceships do!_

No…No…it couldn't be. Slowly, Pamila propped herself up on her arms. She saw a cockpit with two pilots: The man from the apartment and…What the hell was _THAT?!_ An abominable space bear?! It was tall, dark, and furry! It arms were like small tree trunks! He could shred her into little tiny ribbons!

Trying to push that far from her mind, Pamila looked out the cockpit window. Yep it was space. Nothing but darkness and stars. A living contradiction. But there were other things. Hundreds of small yellow ships being chased by black and beige ships.

The black ships…

A memory. Vader. The crash. Pamila pulled Vader out of a ship that looked like the black ships flying in front of her.

Now it made sense: She had been kidnapped and now Vader was trying to rescue her!

 _Great! Why don't I get locked in a tower next?_ She snarked to herself.

But the yellow ships all looked alike and Pamila guessed she was in a ship that looked like the rest. She needed to give Vader a sign, needed to let him know where she was.

She glanced at the cockpit once more. The two…things were busy punching buttons and yelling at each other (or growling). They were so distracted, a joystick was left wide open. Ever so carefully, Pamila inched toward the cockpit. They didn't notice her. Then, in a flash, Pamila's hand reached for the yok and pulled it hard to the right. The spin start spinning very quickly, the stars now swirls in the windows.

"What the hell just happened?" The man yelled.

The space bear growled when he saw Pamila. He grabbed something and hit her over the head again.

Again, everything was black.

… … … … … … …

"There!" Vader roared into the com. "30 degrees down to my left! That's the ship! Focus all fire on that ship."

Pamila. It had to be. For a moment he felt her presence and then the ship started to spin for no reason. That was the sign he needed. Now he, his troops, and the Rebels moved in on the ship.

Vader smiled to himself, "I'm coming for you."

… … … … … … …

"Damn!" Willmeif cursed as he struggled to regain control of the ship. "They've found us! We need to get out of here fast!"

Rarrath bellowed in hearty agreement. The wookie then began practically pressing buttons, then one of his fuzzy hands moved to the light speed toggle.

Willmeif grabbed Rarrath's wrist before the wookie could do anything, "Whoa! Whoa! What the hell do you think you're doing? This ship is too small to even have light speed! We'll be torn apart in all that pressure!"

Rarrath grunted. _Worth a shot! Better than being prisoner to Vader!_

With that, Rarrath pulled on the toggle hard and in a blur of stars, they were away.

… … … … … … …

Hoool-Purr…Hoool-Purr…Hoool-Purr

Escaped! They escaped. Lord Vader's respirator kicked into high acceleration. Pamila was gone. She was now with those…monsters! They failed. He failed.

Pilots were trying to speak to him over the comms, but he was too angry to answer. He shuttered with rage in the pilot's seat.

Failed.

A failure.

Pamila was going to die.

No! He would find her! He would track down the rebel scum and kill them all!

Rebel scum…

Vader glanced at all the X-Wings on standby. They had failed him. Failure was not an option in the Empire. Their utility had ended. Time for justice to prevail.

Subtly, he cut off the comms for the X-wings from the TIE Fighters, then he opened a channeled to his squadron commander.  
"Destroy all X-Wings. I will return to the Executor to track down the fugitives. Leave none alive!"

"Yes sir!"

 ** _PHEW! That was a loooong chapter, but I think it was worth it. I'm sorry if the POV's got a little jumbled and clunky. I just wanted to show this event in a broad view and I didn't want to break it up into smaller chapters. I already have too many chapters as it is…I hope you all like it. For people concerned about Vader/Pamila (*SPOILER ALERT*) They do get together in the end and she does live, they just have to go through some things first. I still have two or three major plot points I need to do…huh, this is going to have a lot of chapters…I may combine some chapters later…Oh Well! : ) Have a good day lovely readers! : ) Thanks for all your support, especially those who have supported me from the get-go : ) you are all darlings : ) Til Next Time! Sorry for all the typos :/_**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

 **Present Day: Coruscant (One Day after Battle of Earth)**

 ** _Sorry, this won't be the best chapter :P this is a "covering all the bases" chapter. I'm just trying to tie up some plot points and lose ends so they are not just left hanging there. A more interesting chapter will follow I promise. It will be filled with more emotion and more action. I just need to clear things up with some character's first. Thank you for all your support! The recent surge of support has made me blush and go "Ah shucks!" Thank you sooo sooo soo much! Please enjoy this chapter!_**

Every senator, representative, and ambassador was in attendance. Not because this special session was mandatory, but because of intrigue. Intrigue of Vader and his mystery woman. By now, Pamila was a household name and word spread quickly about her _relationship_ with Lord Vader. And now everyone was curious about the battle that took place above an unknown planet. Every floating platform within the Senatorial Rotunda carried at least five people. Thousands of secretive murmurs and hushed whispers filled the large arena and at the center of it all was Emperor Palpatine.

Of course he had to look like a picture of remorse. On the surface, Pamila's abduction was a terrible tragedy. However, what no one knew was that Palpatine had set the gears in motion and had been waiting for this exact moment. All in an effort to tighten his hold on the Empire's heart. To ensnare their compassion and wield it for his own sake.

Palpatine gradually stood from his seated position on the center platform of the Rotunda. As he did, the arena fell into a dead silence. His own subtle power made him smile. He morphed his face to look sorrowful as he began to speak.

"A terrible atrocity has occurred. Less than a day ago, the Pamila you have all heard about was kidnapped by the horrid Rebellion. Lord Vader led a battalion in an attempt to rescue her. Unfortunately, their mission wasn't successful. As the cowardly rebels fled, a large squadron of rebel X-wings ambushed Lord Vader and his men. Because of this, poor Pamila is now in the custody of malicious criminals."

Palpatine paused to listen to the horrified gasps from the crowd. They all cared so much. Their hearts truly went out to Pamila. The Emperor tried not to smile. This was just how he planned it.

Palpatine continued speaking, allowing a touch of anger to lace his sad tone, "The Rebels have always been a threat to our way of life. In all my years of politics, I know philosophical conflicts are unavoidable. However, this recent assault transcends all acceptable boundaries of philosophy and morality. I could almost excuse direct attacks upon this Empire, but I will never condone the assault of an innocent. An innocent who has no stake in either the Empire or Rebellion. An innocent whose only desire was to save the life of Lord Vader. A man crashed in a foreign planet who was in desperate need of aid. And now those rebels condemn her for her compassion. For her empathy.

"I know many in this great Senate may consider my rule cruel and unjust. I acknowledge that. All I ask is that in this moment of darkness, we unite in order to stop the Rebellion! A Rebellion that claims to fight for the innocent yet deems the kindness of a young woman a punishable offence! So I ask you now…Will you stand with me? For morality? For Pamila?"

The volume of the roaring applause was immeasurable. All the planets, all the systems cheered and clapped enthusiastically in a grand show of support. There were even outbursts such as _Save Pamila!_ Or _"Kill the Rebels!_ Once again, Palpatine was very, very pleased.

Right on cue, Mas Amedda leaned over and whispered in the Emperor's ear. Just as previously instructed by Palpatine. Palpatine already knew this piece of information, he just needed a theatrical entrance. After receiving the "update", Palpatine raised a silencing hand. The Rotunda went quiet.

Palpatine wore his most grave and solemn face, "My friends, I am afraid I have received some terrible news. I was just informed that my office was sent a gruesome holovid of young Pamila and her captors. I…" he paused for dramatic effect. "It pains me that anyone is capable of this level of malice. With the permission of the Senate, I would like to present this holovid now for I have not seen it myself. But I must warn you, I am told this holovid is quite graphic."

 _Perfect,_ Palpatine thought. _Let them soak in the gore._ Palpatine glanced downward from his podium. When he did, he saw Vader skulking in the shadows at the bottom of the Rotunda. Glutton for punishment. Palpatine would enjoy watching Vader squirm at the sight of poor, tattered Pamila.

It didn't take long for the Senate to approve the viewing. With an exaggerated mournful sigh, Palpatine projected the holovid so everybody could see. The camera work was shaky, obviously a cheap, hand-held device. In front of the Senate was a grainy, jittery image of Freedom with Blood's leader, Willmeif. His stern and enraged face stared hard into the camera.

 _"_ _Lord Vader,"_ Willmeif began to speak, his voice little more than a growl. _"I hope you are watching this. I hope all you Imperial bastards are watching this! You think you own everything? Think you can take away everything we love? How many people have you killed, Vader? I don't think you even know! That's how much of a monster you are!"_

Palpatine saw Vader shift his weight in agitation, his hand grazing the hilt of his Lightsaber. Palpatine smiled. He loved how Vader thought he could fix everything with brute force.

" _I know a villain like you won't remember this, but three years ago, you took my wife away from me. You took my daughter away. You slaughtered them in front of me and you wouldn't even leave me their bodies! Your troopers dumped them into a trash compactor under YOUR orders! Worst of all, you let me live! Left me alive to feel endless pain! You ruined my life! Since then, I have done everything I can to try to tear your Empire down."_ Willmeif's voice cracked and was stifled with emotion. He looked away from the camera, trying to mask his sadness.

The Emperor cringed inwardly that Willmeif thought the Empire belonged to _Vader_. Still, he shouldn't have been surprised. He had worked hard to make Vader an imposing, public face of the Empire. Regardless, the Empire was Palpatine's and Palpatine's alone.

In the holovid, Willmeif tried to compose himself, _"For so long, nothing felt good enough. There was never anything I could do to get my revenge…until now! Finally, after years, you've finally showed your weakness. You let yourself fall in love. So it only seemed fitting that since you took my heart, I might as well rip out yours. In many ways, I'm doing her a favor. No woman should be punished to be with a freak like you! But still, I need to cause you pain…"_

With that, Willmeif turned the camera in his hand. As the wobbly image stilled, it focused on Pamila. Or what was once Pamila. Shackled to the grey wall of what looked like a warehouse, Pamila sat in a slumped position wearing nothing but meager prisoner rags. Her face was bruised and bloody. There were meticulous cuts all along her body. They were deep, but not lethal. Even with the grainy image, it was clear her fingernails had been pulled. Meant only to cause pain. Only to send a message. She was unconscious and Willmeif made no attempt to rouse her. He didn't need her pleas for mercy. He knew the image of her beaten body was enough. There were gasps of horror and sympathy throughout the Senate. Palpatine reveled as he felt anger towards the Rebellion rise. Even high up in the air, Palpatine could still hear Vader growl beneath him. He could feel Vader's blood boil and his rage threatening to break into a murderous storm.

Willmeif flipped the camera to face him again, _"This is your fault, Vader. You're the one doing this do her. You love her, therefore she must pay your debt. There will be no ransom, no demands . . . save one: All I ask is that you suffer. And I can promise you will suffer. I promise you she will die slowly. Agonizingly slow. I will only kill her once she curses your name the way I do each night! And that, Lord Vader, is my promise to you."_

The holovid ended, leaving the Senate in a quiet state of disbelief. Looking down, the Emperor watched his apprentice storm out of the Senate. His black cloak like a promise of impending death.

After he enjoyed Lord Vader's fury, Emperor Palpatine made his eyes look sad once more and looked at the Senate, "As you can see, this man is clearly deranged. Just like the rest of the Rebellion. Using his pain against an innocent such as Pamila is simply inexcusable." The Emperor paused, listening to the voices of agreement.

The Emperor continued his speech, his voice turning more into disdain, "I will not deny that Lord Vader has had to take drastic measures in the past. It is no secret he can be brutal. However, while watching this outrage, I was informed that this man's family instigated a fight during a routine sweep of the area. Lord Vader had no choice but to defuse the situation. As for their bodies, the planets soil was so toxic and rotten, it was not fit for any burial.

"Besides, even if Lord Vader acted out of line, is that really an excuse to go after a woman like Pamila? Is a man hell-bent on vengeance the kind of man we want in an Empire of Peace? This is what the Rebellion is made of. Sick and broken people trying to cause damage for the imagined slights. Is this how civilization should be? Will we stand for this?"

The audience screamed at the top of their lungs: _No!_

Palpatine watched as all the senator's face twisted in anger. Human and non-human made their resentment quite clear. After several moment of chaotic fury, the Senate began to chant:

 _Pal-pa-tine….Pal-pa-tine…Pal-pa-tine!_

The Emperor raised his hands in fake humility, but the chanting persisted. It was all so perfect. Every detail was exactly as Palpatine had planned. He now had the heart if the Empire. They were now his. Only now did he truly own them.

… … … … … … …

 **After the Speech: The hallways of the Senate**

 _This can't be happening!_

Bail Organa pushed his index fingers deep into his temples, trying to ease the sharp headache building there. This was disaster! Everything was going wrong. First off, they failed to save Pamila. Second, Vader killed of every single X-wing pilot on site. And now, the Emperor was twisting the actions of one man against the entire Rebellion. And even worse, the populace _believed_ him! He had them eating out of the palm his hands. Before his very eyes, the foundation of the Rebellion was crumbling. If they didn't have the support of the populace, they had nothing.

Quickly, Bail Organa left his platform within the Rotunda. In a daze of both panic and denial, he began rushing the halls of the Senate. He walked quickly in the hall that led to the Emperor's private office. He wasn't thinking. All he could do was move. He had to do something…anything!

Soon he reached the Emperor's door, where he was quickly cut off by some Royal Guards and Mas Amedda. The large, blue advisor raised a halting hand, "No one is permitted into the Emperor's office."

"I need to talk to him! It is important!" Bail huffed, trying to push past Amedda, but the advisor continued to block him.

"The Emperor has said all that he needed to say." Amedda stated calmly. Bail was about to protest when the office door opened slowly, revealing the Emperor standing there with a smug smile on his face.

"Tut, Tut Amedda! Let the poor senator in. He is clearly frantic." The Emperor stepped to the side and made a gesture with his arm, welcoming the senator in. Suddenly feeling reluctant, Bail Organa took tentative steps as he entered the Emperor's office.

 **Hoool—Purr…Hoool—Purr… Hoool—Purr**

That familiar sound made Organa flinch. In the corner of the Emperor's office was Darth Vader. His hands were planted firmly on his hips and his breathing seemed heavier than usual. Bail couldn't help but gulp in fear. He hadn't seen Lord Vader since that day on Alderaan and now he was facing him after the Rebels failed to help him save Pamila. For the first time in a long while, Bail Organa feared for his life.

Vader turned his head slowly to look at the senator. Even behind the black orbs of his mask, Bail could still feel the dark lord's death glare. The glower made Organa's stomach sink and his hands tremble. The two men stared at each other for a mere second, but it felt like an eternity.

Eventually, Bail swallowed dryly and found his voice, "My condolences, Lord Vader. I know this must be difficult for you."

"Your sympathy is neither needed or wanted, senator." Vader retorted harshly.

The Emperor slipped quietly past Organa and sat behind his majestic desk. He acted like he didn't notice the subtle standoff between his two guests. His sickly hand gestured that Bail should sit, "Now senator, what seems to be the problem?"

Bail sat on one of the Emperor's plush chairs. In this moment, he realized he never thought out a plan. He had no idea what he was going to say. His nerves were getting the better of him. It took all his mental power to keep himself from visibly shaking. "N-Not so much a problem, but a concern. I was just pondering if it is wise to lump Willmeif with the entire Rebellion. I mean, Freedom with Blood is a relatively new group and seems to stand apart from other rebel factions."

The Emperor smiled a half-smile. It was a look of both amusement and a snarl. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk, his hands forming a steeple. "My dear senator, rebel factions are all the same. A representative from one represents them all."

Bail was about to continue with his argument when Vader stepped forward, "Are you suggesting we show the Rebellion leniency?"

Bail almost rolled his eyes. _You didn't show my pilots any leniency, you bastard!_ However, Bail held his tongue and tried his best to look defeated. "Of course not, Lord Vader."

"Good," Vader said, taking another step forward so he could tower over Organa. "It would be unfortunate if you were suspected of treason."

Tension filled the room. Vader's stern gaze made Organa uncomfortable. He looked down, but for a brief moment, he thought he saw the Emperor smiling. Then the Emperor leaned back and took on a more relaxed posture, "Worry not senator, the Rebellion will be wiped out swiftly. They will _all_ pay for this terrible infraction."

Bail tightened a grip on his own hand to stop himself from yelling. He was on the verge of losing all control and telling the Emperor how horrible he truly was. Then he thought of Leia and Breha. He needed to be there for them. So, Bail swallowed his pride and bit his tongue. "I understand, your Majesty."

With that, the Emperor gave off a full smile. "Good." Palpatine stood up slowly and moved toward the door, which a Royal Guard opened promptly. "Now, if that's all, I have other matters to attend to."

And as quickly as it began, the meeting was over. Bail knew he was being kicked out in the most politically correct fashion. He didn't have a choice but to leave. The senator stood up and straightened out his senatorial robes. Then he made his way toward the door, "Of course. Thank you for your time."

… … … … … …

Tarkin's pace was relaxed as he walked the corridors of the Senate. He tried to hide his happiness, but sometimes he couldn't help but let a smile form on his face. Pamila was now in Willmeif's custody and Tarkin could be her saving grace. Unfortunately, Willmeif did not return to the planned rendezvous spot, but no matter…Tarkin would find them soon enough. When he did, he would claim his prize. He would take what Vader desired most of all and claim it as his own.

Earlier that day, the Emperor invited him to this special session of the Senate. He had no reason to decline. As he sat with the Senator of Eriadu, he watched the Senate's reaction the Emperor's speech and the image of a beaten Pamila. Already they had grown attached to her. Already she penetrated the minds and hearts of the people. And one day, she would be his wife…one way or another.

Now Tarkin leisurely made his way to the Emperor's private office. An imperial aide had informed him previously that the Emperor wished to have a private conversation. At first, Tarkin worried he would be punished for his suspected involvement in Pamila's abduction. However, given the Emperor's speech, Tarkin had a sinking feeling that Palpatine wanted this to happen all along.

As he turned the corner to the Emperor's door, he bumped into Senator Bail Organa.

"Senator, this is a surprise. Such a horrible tragedy, isn't it?"

Bail shot him a look of misery, "For so many, governor. For so many."

Tarkin furrowed his brow in confusion, but Organa had already brushed past him and walked briskly down the hall.

"Have a good day," Tarkin mocked under his breath. Pushing the encounter from his mind, he walked into the open door of Palpatine's office. He looked in a saw the Emperor and Vader conversing in the center of the room.

Tarkin rubbed his throat, remembering Vader's gloved hands tightly around it. Hesitantly, Tarkin knocked on the side of the door to announce his presence. As he did, the Emperor shifted his gazed toward him.

"Ah! Grand Moff Tarkin, I'm glad you could make it. Please, come join us."

Tarkin was about to until Vader looked at him, making Tarkin halt mid-step. The Emperor seemed to catch on the Grand Moff's hesitation and smiled. "Don't worry Governor. Lord Vader will behave himself."

Still reluctant under Vader's gaze, Tarkin made his way slowly to the Emperor. "You said you wished to speak with me. My Emperor."

Palpatine nodded, "Indeed Governor. After due consideration, I believe it is time for you to take a more active role in the finalization of the Ultimate Weapon."

Tarkin was taken aback. This is certainly not what he expected. "A more active role?"

"Yes, you will go to the battle station and oversee Director Krennic. There have been many setbacks and I believe your talents would be better suited there."

Tarkin shifted his weight, "With respect, I thought I might use my political influence to help locate Pamila."

At that, Vader growled. "No doubt. However, that duty has fallen upon me and me alone."

The Emperor raised a small, but threatening hand, "Yes. Vader will seek out Pamila and you will ensure that the Death Star is completed on schedule."

Tarkin scoffed, "But my lord…"

"This is not a debate governor!" Palpatine cut him off brusquely. "I have no more need for you here! You have served your purpose."

Tarkin was confused about the last remark, but didn't dare voice his thoughts. He lowered his head in respect, still feeling unsatisfied. "And may I ask how long my talents will be required on the battle station?"

The Emperor curled his lips into a twisted smile, "Quite a while, governor. Quite a while indeed." Then the Emperor leaned toward the Grand Moff and whispered secretively: "Pamila will be Vader's prize, not yours."

Tarkin clenched his fists in anger. The Emperor had set him up! Cunning bastard! How could Tarkin be so blind? Tarkin didn't know if Vader heard the Emperor, but he assumed he did. If he could peer behind that dark mask, he was sure he could see Vader smile. Now it was clear: no matter what Tarkin did or how high ranking he was, he was still susceptible to Palpatine's manipulations.

The Emperor spoke again, more loudly this time. "Have I made myself clear?"

Tarkin nodded, "Oh yes. Quite clear."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

 **Present Day: Willmeif's New Hideout**

 ** _Just a heads up: This is a blood and gore chapter! So for those how are uncomfortable with that, I will let you know each time there is a gory chapter from now on. If there is no warning, then it is fine (or at least less graphic). For those who like blood and gore, have fun! For those who don't, the lovey-dovey stuff will come soon, I promise. Please enjoy!_**

 _Desert…_

 _Sands and hot winds surrounded her. Pamila cautiously took in her surroundings. It was desolate, devoid of life._

 _Until…_

 _In a flash, two floating cars with no wheels zipped past Pamila. They came to a sudden stop on a nearby dune. One of the cars was spewing black smoke from the engine. Two young men got out of their cars, their heads covered with thick helmets. In frustration, one boy tore off his helmet and threw it on the sand._

 _Pamila gasped._

 _Standing a few meters away from her was the teenage boy from her dream. Now he looked to be a few years older. No longer a teenage boy, but a young man. His face was more mature, though still youthful. His shaggy blonde hair flittered in the wind as he examined his vehicle._

" _I can't believe it!" He exclaimed._

 _The other young man came over and removed his helmet. He was a little bit taller with short black hair and mustache. "What is it?"_

 _"_ _It's the power convertors!" The blonde man shook his head in disbelief. "They always burnout in this model. I need to go to Tosche Station and get some new ones…again!" At that, the young man kicked his car._

 _"_ _Hey! Hey! Don't take it out on the speeder!" The dark-haired man joked, trying to brighten his friend's mood. "You've been all over the planet with this thing, you can't break up with her now! Come on Luke, lighten up."_

 _Luke…_

 _Pamila's dream shifted. Once again, she was in the bright room, lying on her back. She was Padme again. The British man with the rusty beard was there again and she could still feel the ruin of her insides. The bearded man walked toward her feet where the weird robot handed him a baby. Soon, he returned and showed her the child. It was clearly a boy._

 _"_ _Luke!" She felt her voice exclaim. "Oh Luke…"_

 _And once again, she felt Padme close to death._

Pamila came too with a jolt. She sucked in a loud breath and the winced in pain. Every inch of her body heart. She could feel the rags she wore stick to her. The blood dried and acted like glue. Then it all came back to her.

The man had called himself Willmeif. He and the space bear striped her, made her put on rags, chained her up, and started beating the crap out of her. Guess that was recompense for hitting him with the nightstick. Then the space bear pulled her fingernails out while Willmeif cut her with a sort of scalpel.

They never asked her any questions. They never said a word. They're faces were emotionless as they conducted their torturing. Pamila had tried to hide her reactions, tried to stay neutral…but that's really when people are hitting you like a game of whack-a-mole and extracting fingernails. Not to mention being sliced like a pizza. So yeah, Pamila screamed. She screamed a lot. In fact, she almost cried out Vader's name, but luckily, she was able to hold it in.

Her vision was fuzzy. She blinked several times to try and clear it up, but it didn't work. In front of her, she saw a blurry mass that looked like the form of a man in black.

"Vader…" She murmured groggily.

The man laughed cruelly as he sat on a nearby chair, "Not today sweetheart. Just me."

Even with her face swollen, Pamila managed to roll her eyes. "Oh goody, my jailer is back. So what's on the menu today, hmm? Water-boarding? The Rack? Perhaps a good, old fashioned Iron Maiden?"

She heard Willmeif chuckle, "I don't know what you're talking 'bout, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!" Pamila snapped.

"Oh! I guess you only let Vader call you that."

Pamila squinted, "Vader? W-What's he got to do with this?"

"Everything!" Willmeif thundered. He got up from the chair and tossed it angrily aside. He started pacing like a caged tiger in front of Pamila. "You know this is his fault. It's because of him you are here."

Pamila snorted, "And here I thought it was because a psychopath broke into my home and kidnapped me. I don't remember seeing Vader there."

Willmeif turned fiercely and backhanded her across the face, "It _is_ his fault! He turned me into this! Now…" Willmeif crouched in front of Pamila. "Now I get my revenge."

Pamila eyed her captor suspiciously, "What exactly did he do to you?"

Willmeif looked like he was about to speak, but then a certain glint appeared in his eye, "I have a better idea." Suddenly he stood and walked to a table. On it he lifted a small device. He placed it on the ground in front of Pamila and pushed a button. A hologram sprung to life. It was Vader! His Lightsaber was ignited as blasts of light shot toward him. He deflected them and started moving. The hologram followed his movements. Soon Pamila could see people with guns charging him. One by one, Vader sliced them, even cutting some in half. Their dead bodies littered the ground. Even as some of the soldiers fled, Vader easily out-maneuvered them and cut them down. He was not the Vader Pamila knew. He was ruthless and fierce. After the battle had ended, some soldiers in white armor gathered up the people who surrendered. That is when Vader slaughtered them while they were on their knees, beseeching him to be forgiving. He did leave one alive however. The "lucky" survivor was suddenly lifted into the air. Nothing was touching him. Pamila could see Vader's index finger meet his thumb. Soon the survivor was clawing his throat. He couldn't breathe! He strained voice begged for mercy. Vader refused. Soon, the man became limp and Vader released his invisible grip. Then he and his soldiers walked away like they just didn't kill an entire group of people.

Willmeif turned off the hologram device and sat back down on his now upright chair. Pamila gulped and blinked back tears. She felt her voice begin to quiver, "What was that?"

She looked at Willmeif. He held a camera in his hand. He had been filming her this entire time, which pissed her off. He would probably send the tape to Vader. "HoloNet footage of the man you love," Willmeif replied coldly. "That was one of his nicer days."

A shiver ran down Pamila's spine. Tears gathered in her eyes. She bit her lip. _Vader,_ she thought to herself. " _Is this true?"_

Of course she shouldn't have been surprised. Ever since she found his Lightsaber in her car, she suspected his line of work was…questionable, to say the least. She just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that the man who stayed with her, who held her, who _kissed_ her was capable of such destruction.

No…No…he wasn't. Half her brain believed it, the other half was trying to justify his actions. In the footage, he was not the one who started the fight. He finished it…brutally…killing people who surrendered…then choked a guy using magic for no obvious reason…

But he had been so gentle to her, so kind…How was this possible?

She heard Willmeif chuckle, still filming, "In denial?"

Pamila shot him an icy glare. She swallowed and picked her next words carefully, "I may not be the most observant, but right now, I see two men. One was considerate while a guest in my home, the other kidnapped me and chained me like a dog! One was kind, the other tortured me within an inch of my life! So you will excuse me when I say I hope you go to hell!"

At that, Willmeif stomped his heavily-booted foot onto Pamila's shin. Pamila couldn't stop herself from screaming in pain. She screamed so loud, her vocal cords stopped working momentarily. She heard (and felt) the bone crack and shatter beneath his boot. Looking down, she could see some bone fragments poking out of her pale skin, leaving trails of blood.

Willmeif smirked at her suffering. He removed his foot. He did all the damage he could. Once again, he squatted down next to her, camera in hand. "Ya know, I said I wasn't going to make any demands. But I do have one wish: I wish Vader comes and tries to save you. I hope he storms in here with a fury. Then maybe I get to kill the both of ya."

A sudden surge of defiance filled Pamila, "Good luck with that." She retorted between waves of pain.

Willmeif turned on the projector again, showing a still image of Vader, "Ya know, around here, people think Vader's a god. Thinks he's indestructible. But I don't think so." Camera in hand, Willmeif walked toward the life-sized image of Vader and pointed at his chest plate. "I think he is weak. A sick man barely clinging to life. I think it's all a front." Willmeif walked over to Pamila, filming her reactions. "So, what can you tell me about your boy-toy's suit?"

Unable to help herself, Pamila rolled her bruised eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. Her tone began to drip with more sarcasm than Bill Murray's, "Ok, you got me! You figured me out! Yeah, me and Vader had a real heart-to-heart. He told me all his dirty little secrets and I told him all mine. Because why wouldn't he tell a woman he barely met all his flaws?" Pamila smiled as Willmeif's face grew redder with anger. She continued with more viciousness, "You are an idiot! Vader didn't tell me a _damn_ thing! Why the hell would he? I'm nothing but a passer-by in his life. I don't know anything about him or his suit! And if you had any brains, you wouldn't try to go after him! Just look at his suit! He plainly shows off the controls! He's not hiding anything! He is inviting challenge! So if you want to die, grab a gun and go pick a fight with him! You won't catch me crying over you! And don't bank on him trying to save me. He's not going to waste the time or the resources to find one woman!" Pamila and Willmeif glared at each other for several moments before she spoke again. "I don't expect Vader to save me, but I do hope that one day…somehow…he finds you. And I hope to god he kills you."

Willmeif's face turned different shades of crimson. His lips formed a thin line. Then with a flash of madness in his eyes, he spoke, holding the camera tightly: "How 'bout a matching set?"

With that, he crushed Pamila's other shin with his boot.

… … … … … … …

 **One Day Later: Coruscant, Imperial Security Bureau Headquarters**

A large HoloProjector was situated in the center of the table in the Conference Room. Several officers and agents of the ISB sat and watched the latest footage of Pamila. It had been sent in that morning from an untraceable source. All the members of the ISB were squirming. Not because of the hellish imagery, but because the Emperor and Lord Vader were present. They would flinch and cower every time they heard Vader growl in anger. They watched the dark lord from the corner of their eyes, not daring to look at him directly. His hand were clamped tightly onto the back of a plastic office chair. They could see the dents and cracks forming under his grip and heard the breaking of plastic. As the footage progressed, the whole room began to rumble. The ground shook, glass shattered, and the walls crumbled. And never once did a smile leave the Emperor's mouth.

 _"_ _How 'bout a matching set?"_ Willmeif asked in the holovid.

As Pamila let out another hair-raising scream, the projector suddenly exploded in a burst of flames. Fragments of the machine went flying in every direction. No one asked why. They all knew it was Vader. They just dodged the shrapnel and cowered in fear.

After some tense silence, Deputy Director Ison dared to speak, "She's going to get herself killed if she keeps that kind of attitude."

The Emperor waved a dismissive hand, "Her attitude is of little importance. She will die regardless."

Vader began to pace as his hands balled into tight fists. Everyone except the Emperor moved away from his wake. His deep, synthesized voice made terrible grumbling sounds.

"No," he muttered to himself. "She will not die."

Lord Vader stormed over to the ISB agent in charge of trying to track the sender. He towered over him, making the poor man quiver, "Have you tried every available method to track the source?" Vader inquired with his angry, baritone voice.

The little man nodded frantically, "Y-yes, Lord V-V-Vader. Se-Several times! They have covered their tr-tracks very well."

As a reward for his efforts, Vader rewarded sniveling man by snapping his neck without even touching him. He gazed emotionlessly at the body. "You should have tried harder."

Everyone's face drained of all color. Once again, Ison was the only one brave (or stupid) enough to break the silence. "My lord, may I present an idea?"

The Emperor nodded, given Vader was too angry to do anything. "Go ahead, Deputy Director."

Ison gulped, "Actually, my Emperor, it is a matter I would only feel comfortable discussing with you. In private, if I may."

Vader's head perked up. He began to move threateningly closer to Ison, but the Emperor raised a blocking hand. Then he used that hand to signal everyone should vacate the room. All the officers shuffled out without protest, but Vader stayed put.

The Emperor turned to him, his tone the epitome of silent death, "Lord Vader." He warned coldly. Clearly enraged, Vader stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Once their privacy was ensure, the Emperor made a welcoming gesture at Ison, "As you were saying?"

Ison bowed his head in appreciation and began to speak slowly, "I believe there is a loose end. A forgotten asset we can exploit. The dug, Threllba. Perhaps he has new information to be gained. And if he does, perhaps there is a way to give this information to Vader without…." Ison paused.

The Emperor smirked, "You mean without him knowing that Threllba was our spy who informed Freedom with Blood about Pamila?"

Ison looked at the floor, "Yes, my lord."

Palpatine's smile widened, "I appreciate your adherence to discretion, Ison. It is a valuable trait."

"Thank you, my Emperor."

Palpatine nodded, his eyes glazed over with thought, "You are correct in thinking of Threllba. That dingy dug may yet be of some use to us. Locate him immediately! Take every measure to ensure his tongue is loosened! Soon, Lord Vader will claim the heart of the Empire."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

 **Present Day**

 **Days of Pamila's imprisonment: 3**

 ** _Warning: Torture Chapter! Please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. I want my readers to feel happy about what they read._**

 ** _PS: MysticFire, you read my mind ;) I was planning to have Pamila use some Chi, I'm just trying to have it so she doesn't suddenly turn into a full on Jedi in a matter of days : )_**

 ** _PPS: You might want to get out of my head ;) it is a dark and slightly dirty place.._**

… … … … … … … … … …

 **Transcript from a recently aired HoloNet news broadcast (Imperially approved)**

 _"_ _If you have just tuned in, we have just watched the recently released footage of Pamila Jenkins in the custody of the Rebellion. The video was a graphic depiction of Ms. Jenkin's brutal torture. It was sent to the ISB two days ago from an untraceable. The Emperor just recently approved the public release of this footage. In a statement released by the Imperial Office, the Emperor has said: '…the public has a right to know what truly happens within the ranks of the Rebellion'. Emperor Palpatine also made it very clear that every effort is being taken to find and rescue Pamila. He also promises swift justice against the Rebellion for this heinous crime against a human life. The Emperor hopes that this will come to a peaceful resolution, but will use force if necessary. We reached out to Lord Vader for comment, but no word so far."_

… … … …

 **The Imperial Palace**

The elaborate, double doors to the Throne Room swung open abruptly. Two stormtroopers marched in while dragging a small, cowering mass. They walked to the Throne where the Emperor sat and threw the sad creature at his feet.

Using the Force, Sidious took a mental hold of the creatures chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. Now the Emperor was face to face with the utterly abused dug, Threllba.

The Emperor waved away the troopers then fixed his gaze on Threllba. Sidious flashed his teeth threateningly, "Word has it that you are being rather uncooperative."

Threllba's breathing quickened as he began to panic, "I already told your goons, I don't know nothing! I haven't spoken to Willmeif since he went to Eriadu with the governor bloke!"

Sidious cackled slightly, "You'll excuse me if I don't take the word of a spy at face value."

The once stone-cold spy began to whimper and cry, "I can't tell you nothing because I don't know nothing! Please! I can't tell you what I don't know!"

As Threllba sniveled in terror, Sidious stood up, his robed figure towering over the tiny dug, "You're ignorance is noted. Unfortunately, if you were a more adequate informant, you may have survived. However, since your utility seems to have ended, I no longer have any use for you."

As Sidious raised his hands to administer the Force Lightning, Threllba raised his hand in defense. "Please! Please!" Threllba pleaded at the top of his lungs. "I'll find out! I'll find the girl! Just let me live! I'll find her! You still need me!"

Sidious shifted his gaze, mimicking contemplation. Then an evil smirk played out across his face, "I think not."

In a sudden burst of light, crackling blue bolts of lightning shot from Sidious's fingertips and into Threllba's heart. The dug fell on his back and writhed on the floor, shrilling in pain. The lighting highlighted his skeleton as the electricity ripped through his body. His limbs curled and contorted out of shear agony. His head flopped to one side, looking at the blood red Royal Guards.

He tried to extend one hand toward them, "Please!" he cried. "Help me!" But of course, the guards didn't even flinch at the sight of this brutality. It was in their training. Threllba's cries became louder with each painful jolt that tore through his withered body. Smoke started to rise from his charring flesh. Zig-Zagged scorch marks decorated his skin as Threllba took in one last shaky breath. Soon his body went completely limp, even with thousands of jolts of electricity going through him. The life had finally left him.

Sidious relaxed his hands, ceasing his attack. He made a sickly movement with his hand and the Royal Guards dragged Threllba out of the room. As Sidious sat back on his throne, he couldn't help but smile at himself.

 _The strong must rule over the weak. The Force demands it._ He thought to himself. He shifted his head, allowing himself to gaze out of one of the large open windows of the palace. Sunset had fallen over Coruscant and it filled the whole world in a warm shade of golden-orange. Sidious's mind suddenly thought of Pamila. By now, most everyone under the Imperial flag had seen or heard of her cruel brutalization by the Rebels. Governors from several different sectors had reported mass protests. This was not new, the herd-minded populace often protested the Empire. However, they were no longer standing against the Empire. Now the people gathered to protest the Rebellion. The treacherous reminders of the Republic. The once adored Rebellion was now scorned. Pamila's kind-heart soothed the commonwealth, and now her current misfortune pushed the Rebels from their precious pedestal! Now the existence of the Rebellion was spat upon, discredited forever. In fact, one report stated that some group of civilians actually tried to stop a Rebel's plan to steal Imperial goods on Jedha. The Rebels accidently killed the citizens, but the Emperor ensured that the HoloNet described it as a ruthless attack on good citizens.

Pamila's existence had won Palpatine the people's loyalty. He had always had their fear, but now he had their souls.

… … … … …

 **Willmeif's Hideout**

Something stirred inside Pamila.

It felt like white-water rapids were beating down on her. She could feel something swelling inside her solar plexus chakra, causing her to double over. She tried to push the sensation out, instead trying to focus on the cause. The solar plexus chakra was known as the power chakra. Was this Chi gathering inside of her?

She had not been able to concentrate since she arrived. Focusing isn't exactly a priority when one is being tortured. Plus her mind couldn't hold one thought to save its life. It shifted from the dream about Luke, her dream about being Padme again, and of course Vader. Pamila could still see in perfect detail his face in that dream. He was so pale, so scarred, and there was an obvious age difference between them…but what got her attention was his eyes. Eyes can truly tell a lot about a person. His eyes were complex. They were tired yet scared, sinister yet innocent. A man with two sides. Like Yin and Yang, though she doubted his multiple sides were harmonious. God, she wanted to kiss him again!

The pain swelled in her solar plexus again. She groaned. It had to be the Chi gathering inside her. On Earth, Chi could be found in all living things, but the modern world is so fast-paced and drowned in technology, Pamila sometimes had to really "dig deep" in order to develop a good connection to the Chi within her and around her. But here in…wherever the hell she was… Chi seemed to flow so easily. She could feel it flow in her like an electric current. It made her feel so powerful, but also like she was throw up her last meal (whenever that was).

 _Reddish sand and stone…an arena…a word…Geonosis._

Pamila shook her head. Not again! Not this again…

 _Pamila felt Padme being led to a tall sandstone pole that was stuck in the center of a huge arena. She felt Padme's hand get chained in the same way Pamila was bound now. Then, Padme began to reach her finger into the shackles that bound her. Very carefully, she used her middle and index finger to pull out a thin, small metal object, no thicker than a bobby pin. Pamila felt Padme pick the lock. She felt every twist, every turn until the lock to one was undone._

Pamila shivered as she returned to the present. Her eyes widened. She remembered how Padme did it. She remembered how to pick the lock! But with what?

Pamila's eyes scanned the room. A thin, rusty nail lay on the floor about 7 feet in front of her. Too far for her shattered legs to reach. Pamila sighed in defeat.

 _Stretch out._ An echoed voice murmured.

Pamila jumped. Her eyes darted everywhere, "Who's there? Who said that?"

The voice was silent, but then it said in an even more quiet voice, _Distance matters not._ _Stretch out. Reach!_

Pamila furrowed her brow, "'Distance matters not'? Who talks like that? Willmeif, if that's you, I think I preferred your brute force tactic. Thanks!"

Nothing.

Pamila squinted, "Hello?"

Silence.

Pamila raised an eyebrow. She looked up at her shackled hands then looked at the nail on the floor. No…Just no…how could she bring the nail to her? With Chi? That's not how Chi works! Bearing this in mind, Pamila looked at her hands one more time, then looked at her body. She saw the cuts that were becoming infected, her blackened fingertips, and her broken legs. Then she looked back at the rusty nail

"Oh what the hell." She grumbled.

Pamila closed her eyes and concentrated. She tried to picture the nail sliding toward her, inching ever closer…but when she opened her eyes, it was it was in the same damn place! She tried again, extending her hand out the best she could toward her nail. She cleared her mind a little more. When she did, she heard the metal of the nail scratch ever so slightly against the concrete floor.

Pamila got excited, but when she did, the nail stopped moving.

 _Concentrate,_ the echoed voice scolded her.

Pamila nodded, forcing herself to fall deeper into herself. While she tried to focus on the nail, a flurry of emotions bubbled up. Fear, Anger, Despair, Hatred. As those emotions began to consume her, the nail started moving chaotically across the floor, but never toward Pamila.

Pamila tried again, focusing on something other than the nail. She thought of Vader. Even if she only knew him for three days, the few memories she had made her smile. Their dance, the couch, his breathing. His love. That's when she knew for sure: She loved Darth Vader!

As soon the thought entered her mind, the nail flew from its resting place. On instinct, she caught it in her hand perfectly. Her breath labored as she looked back from the nail in her hand and the spot on the floor it had come from. She did it! She had the nail! She made it move!

"Right," She grumbled, trying to center herself. "It's lock picking time!" Pamila mimicked Padme's movements, feeling al the tumblers. Remembering each subtle twist of the hand. It didn't take very long for her to remove one shackle, making it easier to remove the next.

Once her hands were free, she had a different problem: her legs. Her shins were totally shattered. There was no way they could bear her weight. Pamila rolled her eyes. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She tried to calm herself. There was always another way. Another trick to try. She looked toward a barred window. Sunlight streamed through it in visible rays of light. It made her smile. She couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed sunshine. Looking past the sunlight, her eyes instinctually focused on the windowsill. On it was a small, round, greyish device. Liked some sort of beacon…

 _Beacon_

 _She laid on Vader's chest on her couch. In her hands was a small, round, grey device._

 _"_ _The Empire uses this device," Vader had said. "If set to the right frequency, they can pick up a signal."_

Pamila's eyes widened again. The beacon! That was it! It may be a one in a trillion shot that Vader would get it and know it was _her,_ but it was worth a shot. She extended an arm out to use Chi like she had on the nail, but then she hesitated. The nail was durable during her plunders. The beacon was delicate. She didn't dare risk breaking it. But she couldn't walk…

"Guess I'm going to have to crawl," Pamila mumbled, sounding a lot like Eeyore. "I won't let this degrade me at all."

Pamila tried her best to tuck her legs underneath her, ignoring the searing pain of her shattered shins. Then she rolled on her belly, allowing all her weight to fall on to her hands and chest. Slowly, she scooched, pushing off with one hand and then the other. Her legs protested as they were forced to drag behind her, but Pamila tried to push the pain aside. In what felt like hours, she was laying at the base of the window, the beacon resting on the edge of the windowsill. Now for the really hard and painful part: She would have to get up on her knees in order to reach the beacon.

Hesitantly, Pamila moved up on her knees. As pain racked her body, she kept reminding herself: _Only hurts if you let it! Only hurts if you let it!_

Soon she was kneeling, her jaw tightly clenched as she tried to fight off the pain. She grabbed the beacon. There were only one black and a readout screen. She turned the dial. On the screen was several names she didn't know or understand. She kept on turning, hoping to find one she recognized. Finally after searching, she found a readout called **GenImperialFRQ.** Pamila didn't know what that meant, but she really hoped it meant General Imperial Frequency! She set the beacon to it and put it back on the windowsill. Luckily it was discreet and made no noise.

Pamila couldn't run. She had no strength to fight. She came to the conclusion was to do as Padme had done: Hide her lock pick in the shackles and let herself her chained up until a better opportunity arose. So Pamila made the painful journey back to her original spot, resumed the same position, and tightened the manacles around her wrists. But this time she ensured the nail was with her.

Not a moment too soon. Soon the large metal door opened and Willmeif came in. He looked around the room, looking for something. Then with a Neanderthal expression on his face, he looked at Pamila. "Is everything ok here?"

She smiled him, "Beyond the endless hours of excruciating pain, yes, everything is fine."

Willmeif gave her one hard back-hand and began to walk out the door.

"Bitch." He muttered as he left and slammed the door.

Pamila didn't even feel the sting on her cheek. Instead she let out a sigh and stared at the ceiling

 _Vader,_ she thought. _Hear me._

 ** _Hope you all liked it! Sorry it took so long :P Finals :P And I'm about to have a TMI moment, so if you don't want to know weird stuff about me, don't read ;) but did anyone else find Vader's hallway scene "alluring"? I mean, I was sad all the rebels died, but I kind of was turned on…Is that bad? He just does being Bad soooooooo well! Til next time readers!_**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

 **Present Day: Willmeif's hideout**

 **Day of Pamila's imprisonment: 4**

 ** _Warning: Blood, Gore, and Death!_**

 ** _Extra, Extra Warning: Violence against an infant! so if that is very uncomfortable to read, please do not read this chapter and just wait for the next one! I don't want to cause any triggering or upset anyone who has lost a child of their own. This is purely for character development purposes and not meant to cause emotional distress! I suspect this chapter will cause some of my Favs and follows to drop, but that's okay. People need to read what they enjoy and if that's not my story, that's okay : ) I promise this will be the only chapter where an infant or child is harmed._**

… … … … …

Willmeif's room was a vacant, cold, and dark concrete bunker. He wouldn't have it any other way. He sat slouched against the hard wall, tears filling his eyes as he gazed a solitary image. In a grainy, greenish hologram stood a still image of a young, red haired woman clutching a little baby girl. Her smile was wide, her eyes showed no fear. Soon old memories flooded Willmeif's mind, demanding to be recognized. For ten beautiful years, it had just been Sheela and him together. There biggest worry was tending to their farm on Naboo. That was before the discovery that destroyed their lives.

Sheela had always been gifted. Even at a young age, her parents suspected she was Force sensitive, but they didn't give her to the Jedi. They needed her to stay home and help them with their own farm. Sheela always respected her family's decision. She was glad she never went into the Jedi's custody. She loved farming. Loved the feeling of cool dirt slipping between her fingers, of watching the year's crop grow before her eyes as the months passed peacefully, and sitting by Willmeif on the grass on those warm summer evenings.

Then the earthquake came.

It was one of the biggest quakes in all of Naboo's recorded history. Buildings in Theed that had stood for a millennia toppled like a stack of cards. And the structures in the farmlands were even worse off. Willmeif and Sheela were fortunate to get most of their important belongings (and themselves) into a bunker Willmeif had built a few years earlier. The neighboring farm was not so lucky. The earthquake happened so fast. As the family in the next farm fled, a very large, heavy wooden beam from their house pinned one of their young sons to the floor. They boy's cries of pain could be heard for miles, as could the mother's sobs.

At that time, Sheela was eight and a half months pregnant with their first child. Despite Willmeif's protest that she should stay, she made her way over to the neighboring farm ready to offer assistance. As she rushed over there, she saw the boy's pained face and heard his desperate pleas. She saw the terrified and anxious faces of the family. The family had called for the help of a local storm trooper battalion, but everyone knew that Imperial troops would not go out of their way to help a small farming family. They were one their own.

Even Willmeif, who had no Force sensitivity, could feel his wife's strong need to help. He could feel her anger about this hopeless situation. He saw her fists clench. After a while, she raised her hands up slowly, the ground beginning to tremble. At first he thought it was an aftershock, but then he realized: His wife was going to expose herself. Risk her wellbeing to save the child. At this time, the persecution of Force-sensitives was extremely high. Willmeif remembered how he tried to push her arms down, tried to stop her, but she wouldn't budge. As the ground shook more, Willmeif could see the heavy wooden beam slowly lift into the air. As soon as it lifted high enough, the boy's family rushed to grab him. Sheela let the beam fall as soon as the boy was safe.

The family promised to never speak of how their son was saved as a show of gratitude to Sheela. Willmeif thought they were safe. A few weeks later, Sheela gave birth to their daughter and named her Rose. Willmeif remember how he tried to stay strong during the birth even though he thought he may faint during some moments. For two months they raised their daughter on the farm. Sheela nursing her, Willmeif carrying her through the fields with a little hat to shield her precious head from the sun.

In that same month, Imperial presence increased dramatically. The Imperial Navy had built a new base, bringing with it AT-AT walkers, death troopers, and Inquisitors. That didn't disturb Willmeif too much. The Imperials almost always left the farm country alone. As long as they continued to grow food for the navy, they would be safe. Why deal with dingy farmers if they didn't have to, right?

Then the boy who Sheela saved went missing, along with his father. They went to Theed for some supplies and then never returned. Rumors quickly spread. The main one was that the young boy, barely eight years old, had started telling the other children at school about the beam falling on him and how he was saved by "magic". Willmeif could hardly blame him, he was just a little boy. However, the local Inquisitors seemed to have caught wind of the kid's tale and hauled him and his father into questioning. Willmeif tried to brush of the rumors, although in his heart he knew they were true.

For a week, things were especially quiet. Too quiet. Willmeif and Sheela hadn't heard from any of the local farms in days, they didn't even hear birds chirping anymore. Willmeif even walked to some of his neighbor's farms and found that they were deserted. He rushed home to Sheela only to find a garrison of storm troopers, death troopers, and AT-ST Walkers surrounding his home. As he tried to run to his front door, a pair of death troopers easily caught him and made him kneel on the dirt. His heart broke as he heard Rose crying in the house. Soon a stormtrooper walked out with Rose in his arms and roughly handed her off to someone else. Her face was red as her lungs screeched in a pitiful cry. She was no longer in the blanket she needed to keep warm at her delicate age. Willmeif growled and tried to go to her, but he was too well restrained. Then Willmeif heard Sheela yelling, demanding that the troopers let go of her. Soon they pushed her out the door and threw her on a patch of dirt next to Willmeif. She tried to push herself up on her hands, but slumped down. Willmeif could see the big gash at the top of her head where she had been struck. Willmeif tried to move toward her, but then he too was struck on the head too.

That's when _he_ came.

His breathing was the first thing Willmeif noticed. A repetitive, mechanical whir the promised to bring doom. His footfalls were silent as he approached Willmeif and his tattered family. Soon Willmeif caught sight of the infamous Darth Vader. He was tall, a good head taller than many of the storm troopers. His entire body was encased in a suit that was the deepest shade of black that Willmeif had ever scene. His cape just added to his godly, imposing façade.

Willmeif tried to sit up straighter, somehow trying to seem big even as he was forced to kneel, "You have no right to be here! Get off my property!"

Lord Vader glanced at him only for a mere second, then turned his head to a nearby trooper, "Which is the Force user?" He asked in a cold, apathetic voice.

"The woman, my lord." The trooper responded, pointing to Sheela dismissively.

With this knowledge, Vader took a few steps toward Sheela. He signaled to two death troopers, "Get her on her feet!"

The troopers rushed over, grabbed Sheela gruffly by the arms, and hoisted her up. Sheela tried to push the troopers off, her pride getting the better of her. She refused to let someone prop her up. Vader gave a nod for the troopers to unhand her. As they did, Sheela wobbled due to her head injury, but remained standing nonetheless. At full height, she was a good two feet shorter than Vader, but that didn't stop her from glaring at him with her piercing green eyes.

If Vader was unnerved by her death-glower, he didn't show it in his bass voice, "You are aware that using the Force is forbidden, are you not?"

Sheela smirked, "If it's forbidden, let's put you in prison. Make sure the law is truly enforced."

A trooper readied his hand to strike Sheela, but Vader raised a hand, halting the trooper's intention. Then Vader turned his attention back to Sheela, "I have not come to this forsaken planet to spar in a game of words. After the Jedi betrayed the Republic, wielding the Force against the Empire is a punishable offense."

"How is saving a little boy betraying the Empire?" Sheela scoffed in disbelief. "Besides, I am no Jedi."

"Perhaps," Vader falsely conceded. "But as you have said, the law must be enforced. An example must be made."

Sheela rolled her eyes, "So you have come all this way to this _forsaken_ planet to kill me? Very well, I suggest you get on with it!"

Vader shook his head, "Killing you now without provocation will just cause you to become martyr for the weak. However, the Empire is confiscating your child."

Both Willmeif and Sheela's eyes grew wide, "What?"

"Potential Force users must be monitored closely for the sake of the Empire. Taking your child into our custody will ensure just that."

Vader coldly turned from Sheela and gestured to the trooper holding Rose in his arms, "Take the child to my shuttle."

"Yes sir." The trooper nodded and began to walk away, Rose wailing his grip.

Sheela snapped. With an invisible blast, she sent the troopers sending next to her flying in all directions. Then she extended her hand, using the Force to unhook Vader's Lightsaber from his belt and bring it to her hand. She quickly ignited it and rushed at Vader. Sheela got ready to swing at Vader, but as she brought the blade down, Vader casually grabbed her wrists with one hand and hoisted her into the air. With the other hand, he recalled his blade and sliced her across the midsection. Orange embers lit up her stomach as her burnt innards became visible.

Willmeif cried out as he saw the life leave his beloved's eyes. His voice broke under is screams. Then Vader dropped Sheela's body like it was nothing but a scrap of rubbish.

"All too easy," the Dark Lord muttered under his breath. He ordered some troopers to take her body, which infuriated Willmeif even more. Vader then turned to Willmeif, who was now fighting with all his might to get free. Vader stopped to stare at him for a moment.

Willmeif glared at him. "You're a monster."

Vader remained emotionless, "Loss is a part of life. I suggest you grow accustomed to it."

As Vader began to walk away, the trooper who held Rose followed behind him. Willmeif spat toward Vader and started yelling, "All you can do is destroy! Cause ruin! This galaxy once stood for something! Now it's been replaced with beasts like you! Monsters who can't let anyone else be happy! It hurts to know that the Emperor was birthed on this planet! Once this planet had compassionate leaders like Senator Amidala. Now we have a murderer like you! I hate you!"

For some reason, that caused Vader to yield. He turned quickly on his heels and marched back towards. Soon Vader towered over Willmeif's kneeling frame. The anger could be felt surrounding the Dark Lord.

Vader's deep voice managed to grow even more dark and malicious, "You know NOTHING of hate. You could not even comprehend what it is like to be monster. But if you would like, I would be more than willing to give you a taste of what it's like. So you can know how it feels to have your world die around you."

With that, Vader angrily waved the trooper over who carried Rose. Cautiously, the trooper made his way over, clearly afraid of Vader's fury. Soon Vader snatched Rose away from the trooper, causing her to wail even more. Then suddenly her cries began to muffle. Willmeif saw his baby girl's face begin to turn purple, her veins becoming visible in her head. Willmeif's eyes darted back and forth between Vader and his child. He could see one of Vader's hand form a pinch, his thumb almost touching his forefinger. As he did, the more Rose's breath waned. He was killing her! He was choking Rose!

Willmeif roared and growled as he tried to fight his way out of the death troopers grip, but it was like a vice. Soon, baby Rose's face was blue and her head slumped back as she let out a small, final breath. Convinced of his handiwork, Vader ceased Force choke. He essentially tossed Rose's dead body to a trooper and ordered him to the shuttle.

Finally, Willmeif finally got free and charged at Vader. Effortlessly, Vader latched a hand around Willmeif. As he lifted Willmeif off the ground, his grip tightened. Willmeif didn't fight. He just waited for Vader to kill him so he could be with Rose and Sheela again.

But as Willmeif's vision began to blur and darken, the last thing he remembered was Darth Vader's taunting baritone voice.

"Now you are a monster."

… … … … …

Willmeif's memories faded as tears built up in his eyes. Vader had made him this way. Contorted him in the same monster he was. He killed any hope or light he once had inside him. But now, after years of dissatisfaction, the score could be settled.

Pamila.

Willmeif smirked at the thought of her chained in the other room. Yes, now Vader had a weakness. Now Willmeif could cut her up and break her, just as Vader did his heart. Finally he had leverage. Finally, he could have peace.

Suddenly, Rarrath burst into Willmeif's bunker, causing Willmeif to jump.

"What the hell?!" Willmeif exclaimed.

Rarrath roared loudly, _Ships detected! The Executor is in orbit! The whole damn navy is in orbit!_

Willmeif's eyes narrowed in disbelief. Then he shifted his gaze to look at the wall of the adjacent roomed. He sighed under his breath.

"Pamila."

 ** _Okay, not gonna lie: Writing that chapter made me cry. I don't like writing violent chapters, especially those involving babies…but I wanted to add some perspective. I wanted to explore Willmeif's character so he isn't just some villain for no reason. Plus I wanted to put into perspective that even though Vader may be the protagonist of this story, he still has A LOT of red in his ledger. He has done many inexcusable crimes and is, for good reason, the most despised man in the galaxy. Even with Pamila in his life, there are many things he has to make up for. But that doesn't mean fangirls like me can't love him to death…he just causes a lot of death. I hope you enjoyed reading this. I don't think I can write another chapter like this again. It was very emotionally draining. More romance is coming…along with some explanation on Vader's part. Til next time!_**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 **Present Day: The** ** _Executor_**

 **Days of Pamila's imprisonment: 4**

Vader stood akimbo in front of one of the large, trapezoid viewports of the _Executor_. They had just arrived to an abandoned moon on the far side of Kessel. Earlier, Vanee told him of an anomaly signal using the **GenImperialFRQ.** That was a decoy frequency created by Vader to dupe any rebels stupid enough to try and "hack" into imperial frequencies and codes. However, it could also be the frequency Pamila would tune into if she had the means, since she was unknowledgeable in the ways of the Empire. Perhaps Pamila remembered the beacon he had built in her home and tried to use one to contact him. The reason that moon was flagged as an anomaly was because of the level of radiation there made the moon virtually uninhabitable. In cases of prolonged exposure, it could permanently damage a person's health. With this in mind, Vader was even more high-strung in his quest to save Pamila.

Vader could hear the sound of fast, urgent sounding footsteps moving toward him. He turned to see an exasperated Captain Piett.

"What is it, Captain?" Vader asked sharply.

Piett stopped abruptly, his face flushed, "My lord, we are reviving a transmission from the moon's surface. There is some interference due to the radiation, but it appears to be the rebel we are looking for."

"Willmeif." Vader growled.

"Yes sir."

Vader clenched his fists, "Show me."

Both Vader and Piett walked briskly into the communications room. There, on a small HoloProjector, stood a grainy holovid of Willmeif. Vader activated his own holovid cam to answer Willmeif.

"Aw, Vader, what an unwelcome surprise." Willmeif spoke coldly, glaring at Vader. "I wasn't expecting to see your whole damn navy floating above my moon."

Vader was in no mood for pointless conversation, "Where is Pamila?!"

Willmeif smirked, "Skipping the foreplay, are we? Very well. Let's go straight to the cigarette. You will board a shuttle, then you will enter the atmosphere and land at the coordinates I just sent to you. Just you. No one else. No funny business or she dies!"

"Very well…and then what?" Vader asked.

Willmeif chuckled, "You'll see." And with that, he killed the transmission.

Vader deactivated his holovid and made his way out of the communications room. As he did, Piett followed quickly behind him, his mouth desperately trying to form words.

"My lord, surely you're not considering going down there alone?"

Vader turned suddenly and glared at the captain, "And why not?"

"But, my lord, it's probably just a scheme to ensnare you when you are vulnerable."

Vader took another menacing step toward Piett, "Let me remind you who gives the orders and who follows them, _Captain_ Piett. _YOU_ will go down to the hanger bay and prep a shuttle. Make sure that all medical supplies and medic droids are accounted for. I don't want a single strip of gauze missing! Then _I_ will go to the surface alone. Do I make myself clear?"

Piett looked down at the tips of his boots, "Yes, my lord."

As Piett walked away, Vader stood still, feeling the rage boil inside of him. He would not let himself hope. No, he wouldn't let hope cloud his judgement. It did that once before, when he first met Pamila and it only ended in heartbreak. Now, he needed to focus. Focus his rage into a fine point. A point that would cause Willmeif to suffer. He needed to destroy his enemies. Feel them being sliced under his blade or choked by his firm grasp. Vader needed to eliminate all who opposed him. Then, if the Force favored him, he could save the woman he loved. The woman who had been tortured because of him, the woman he put in danger, the woman who could die at any moment…All because he loved her.

 _Why do I always kill all whom I love?_ Vader mused as his blood grew hotter and hotter.

Soon the ground rumbled underneath him, the metal of the ship began to creak as the Force made it contract, and the lights flickered. Bulbs broke, spewing out sparks of phosphorous. Mouse droids scurrying across the floor combusted suddenly. The enunciator and vocoder attached to Vader began to project deep, garbled sounds of despair. During the chaos, Vader unhooked his Lightsaber from his belt, studying the hilt. He turned it so the blade would be facing him. He imagined the crimson beam impaling him, ending his murderous, hateful life. He saw himself drop to his mechanical knees, his weakened vision darkening, the sizzle of his blade within in his already scared abdomen, and then…nothing.

For now, the blade remained unignited. His death was nothing more than a fanciful daydream. But still, the thought lingered in his mind, tempting him.

Slowly, he reattached his saber and exhaled.

"If she dies," he murmured softly. "I die."

… … … … …

 **Willmeif's hideout**

The metal door to Pamila's entrapment swung open, slamming hard against the concrete wall. Willmeif stormed in, holding a canister of some sort. Without speaking to Pamila, he started spilling the liquid in the can in all directions. The smell was potent: Gasoline! In spurts, he sprinkled gasoline in every corner and on every wall, especially near support beams. Soon he made it to the window where the beacon sat. After he emptied the canister, he picked up the beacon. He inspected it, then glanced at Pamila.

"That's one mystery solved." He growled.

Pamila was too tired to give a damn about his anger, "Whatcha doing? Redecorating? I never thought wall-to-wall gas was going to be a trend."

Willmeif crushed the beacon in his hand, throwing it and the empty canister on the floor. He walked toward Pamila and started to undo her shackles. Pamila winced at his roughness. When he undid the final shackle, he found the rusty nail she had squirrelled away.

Willmeif looked at the nail, then tossed it aside. "Clever girl."

Pamila shrugged, "Good thing I got a tetanus shot."

Willmeif snarled and gruffly yanked Pamila up by her arms. She tried to not scream out loud as she was forced to put weight on her shattered shins. Willmeif led her out of the room.

"We're leaving." He grumbled.

"Oh good, I was getting tired of this place." Pamila snarked. "Where are we going?"

Willmeif shot her a death glare, "The roof. To wait for you boyfriend."

Pamila's eyes widened, "Vader? He's here?"

"Yeah. Him and the whole damn navy! Guess your stupid beacon trick worked. C'mon!"

As Willmeif dragged a hobbling Pamila, he stopped by Rarrath and nodded, "You know what to do?"

The space bear let out a dreadful growl, showing off what looked a detonator in his paw. That's when Pamila caught a glimpse of what looked like C-4 bricks on the walls, close to support beams. Rarrath then made his way to the main entrance, waiting to spring the trap.

Pamila struggled vainly in Willmeif's grip, "You're going to blow him up?!"

"That's how it works sweetheart." Willmeif jeered. "Freedom with Blood ain't big on cuddling."

Pamila's eyes grew in shock. _Freedom with Blood?_ This was the first time she had heard this fanatic's group name. Suddenly it all came back to her: The dream with Leia and her father, he had mentioned Freedom with Blood. The realization made her stomach sour: As she feared, her dreams were more than dreams. They were truth. Flashes of real life. Which means…

Her thoughts were interrupted. Willmeif pulled on her again, making her legs scream in pain even more. "C'mon girl. I don't think you want to stick around for the inferno."

With that, Willmeif yanked Pamila again, making her feel as if her damaged legs would just fold under her in protest. As they reached the stairwell to the roof, Pamila sighed, looking down at her shins while remembering when she saved Vader.

"Stairs… Why is it always stairs?"

… … … … …

 **Vader's shuttle**

As Vader walked to his shuttle, a lethal darkness seemed to hover over him (Well, more than usual). With each step, the dark, reflective floors of the docking bay shook. Stormtroopers and technicians halted mid-step as they felt the vibrations. There quizzical looks quickly turned to terror when they saw the dark lord stride past them. People began to shuffle out of there. By the time Vader reached his shuttle, the hanger bay was devoid of people. When Vader entered the transport, he briefly checked the medical supplies. It all seemed to be in order. It was time to kill a rebel. He hurriedly strapped himself into the acceleration chair and prepared for launch. The shuttle screeched as it vacated the open port and began its descent into the planet's atmosphere.

The shuttle shook and warmed as it entered that atmosphere, but that mattered not to Vader. Flipping switches and adjusting toggles, he began homing in on the coordinates Willmeif sent. They led to an old, abandoned launch pad that looked like it was constructed during the Clone Wars. Vader could barely see the pad as it was almost completely covered with the green, noxious, and radioactive fumes that made this moon uninhabitable. To the east of the pad was a large, bulky, and desolate building. That's where Pamila was. He could feel it.

Vader sighed to himself, "I'm coming, Pamila."

Unfastening himself from the pilot's, he strode quickly down the opening ramp of the shuttle. Vader didn't care about the air quality. His suit would protect him. He used the Force to augment his speed, allowing him to reach the main doors to the warehouse more quickly. With a mental push, he blasted the large metal doors open. As the dust from the blast settled, all Vader could see was a series of dark, empty rooms. He ignited his Lightsaber and cautiously entered the building. His pace was slow and measured as he let himself sink into the Force. He stretched out with his feelings, desperately seeking out Pamila. It was not Pamila he found.

"RRRRRWWWRRR!"

Vader spun quickly toward the noise. On instinct, he cinched his grip on his blade and attacked with an upward slash, but Rarrath managed to block his attack. His clawed hand swatted Vader's arm, tearing large holes in his suit while knocking the sith lord to the ground. Vader quickly pressed a button on his control panel, sealing in the oxygen reserves to his mask. The fabric on his right arm now dangled off him, his cybernetics clearly showing.

This time, Vader deactivated his weapon and placed it on his belt. This was a job for the Force. Slamming his gloved palm forward, Vader sent Rarrath flying across the room and into another without touching him. Vader walked forward, gaining on the wookie once more, but something caught his attention. In the corner of his eye, he saw shackles on the wall. An image of a bound and beaten Pamila flashed in his mind. From the corner of his other eye, he could see the remnants of a smashed beacon, reminding him of Pamila's desperate plea for help.

Vader's thoughts got the better of him. Too distracted, he didn't notice Rarrath charging him. By the time he did, the Wookie's claws were up in the air and coming down, slashing across Vader's face. A large chunk of Vader's mask went flying and smacked into a nearby wall. Vader let out a groan as he covered his newly exposed face, followed by an agonizing inhale. His lungs were unable to get in air. Vader struggled to push himself deeper into the Force, calling upon a temporary healing practice utilized by the Sith. It would allow him to breath, but not for long. Eventually, Vader was able to take in deeper breaths.

Rarrath moved to strike again, but this time Vader was ready. Vader took a mental hold over the whole Wookie's body and threw him up against the ceiling, only to slam him hard against the floor, and then the ceiling again. Vader repeated this process repeatedly until he was satisfied. Finally, he let the furry body drop. A strange cylinder rolled out of Rarrath's dead hand. It beeped and lit up frantically. The beeping became louder and faster. Then Vader realized…

It was a Dead Man's Switch.

Vader put up a Force-Shield. The explosion was so big, it collapsed most of the ceiling. The debris was blocked by Vader's shield, but the force of the blast still pushed him down on the ground. Little did Vader know he was in for another surprise. Some of the flames sparked by the explosion reached the ground, causing the cement to become ablaze. Only now did Vader smell the accelerant. Fortunately, the fallen debris of the ceiling slowed the spread of the fire, but it was still spreading nonetheless. The fire began to dance around and under the fallen ceiling, making its way toward Vader. The dark lord got up from his position and moved toward the door.

 ** _BOOM!_**

A second explosion. Chunks of concrete and metal supports landed on Vader. As he fell to the ground, he could feel the control panel to his suit crunch underneath his weight. All his life supports were disabled. The only system that remained functional was the connection to the artificial limbs. The pump that kept his heart going was disable, as was the filtration system in his damaged lungs. He had to try even harder to maintain the temporary healing technique he had used.

Using the Force, he lifted the rubble off himself and stood up. As he stood, his cloak caught on fire. Quickly he grabbed it and patted it down, killing the flames. Now scorched, his cape swirled behind him as he moved out of the room and climbed up the nearby stairwell. Nearly dysfunctional, he was wobbly as he made his way up the stairs. As his anger and desperation grew, it was harder and harder for him to focus the Force to heal himself. With each step, he felt his breath become shallower and his heart began to beat irregularly. He could feel the toxic fumes of the planet enter his body. Also, he was not used to seeing the world through his original eyes. His vision in his exposed left eye was blurry and hurt when he looked into light. Due to his damaged suit, he could not use the optic panel in the right side of his mask. It was completely dark. In frustration, he ripped off the rest of his mask, throwing it down the stairs. Vader leaned his back against the wall of the stairwell, lifting his scarred face to the ceiling. He was dying. And once again, he would fail those he loved.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" Vader heard a woman yell.

"Shut up!" A man boomed, followed by the sound of a slap and a whimper.

The sound of Pamila's voice stirred something inside Vader. A determination he had not felt in years. Slowly, Vader stood up straight and with greater confidence began climbing the stairs. No longer did he feel his failing lungs in his chest. No longer was he bothered by his eyes. He focused only on Pamila's voice and his bloodlust. He made his way up the stairs swiftly, finally catching a glimpse of Willmeif and Pamila. He could see Willmeif's tight hold around Pamila's stomach as he forced her to climb the stairs. Vader could see Pamila's nearly destroyed legs as she desperately tried to remain standing. The fire burned in Vader fully now.

Pamila's met his. Her eyes widened.

"Vader?! Get out of here! He'll kill you!"

As the words left her mouth, Willmeif caught sight of Vader and went for his blaster. He shot at Vader, who deflected the bolt into the wall with his Lightsaber. Willmeif then yanked on Pamila harder, shoving her through the door that led to the roof.

Vader rushed up the rest of stairs, fueled by Pamila's screams. When he reached the roof, he saw Willmeif standing near the edge of it, holding Pamila by one arm while the rest of her body tilted off the edge of the roof. Vader stopped in his tracks. He knew if he took another step, Pamila was dead.

Willmeif smiled as he took a look at Vader. "Wow! I always imagined what you looked like under that mask. I know you would be ugly, but not _this_ ugly! You really are a monster. Inside and out."

Vader deactivated his lightsaber and held the hilt at his side, "You don't have to do this Willmeif," Vader spoke calmly in his naturally weak voice. "You don't have to kill her."

Willmeif's smile turned into a snarl. "Why not?"

"Because," As Vader spoke, he tossed his Lightsaber at Willmeif's feet. "You have already won."

Willmeif eyed the Lightsaber at his feet, then at Vader, then back at the Lightsaber.

"My life for hers." Vader continued in his breathy voice. "I'm the one you want to kill."

Willmeif suddenly moved from the edge, picking up the Lightsaber. As he moved, Pamila too moved away from the edge, landing on her hands and knees at Willmeif's side. With pained eyes, she looked up at Vader.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Pamila asked Vader angrily.

Vader smiled faintly. He knew she was not angry at him, only frustrated and afraid. His eyes grew soft as he stared at her pretty face.

"I'm sorry, Pamila. For all of it."

Willmeif interrupted them by activating the Lightsaber. He played with it in his hand, swishing it around a few times. Then Willmeif's eyes locked on to Vader's.

"This is the blade you used to kill Sheela, isn't it?"

Vader simply nodded, "It is."

Willmeif swung the blade in a circle in his hand. Then he let the glowing blade linger above Pamila, the tip pointing toward her spine. "Wouldn't it be ironic that the blade you used to take my wife from me would also be used to take your love from you?"

Vader tried not to show any reaction on his face. "Retribution does not change the past. I of all people should know."

"I don't give a damn about you!" Willmeif snapped. "Don't talk your way out of this now! Since when did you care for conversation? Brute force has always been your method. You care for nothing but pain and death! Except this...girl! I can't wait to see your eyes when I kill this bitch! I can't wait to see you crumble as I take everything away from you. Let's see how tough you are now, Lord Vader. Let's see…"

 ** _PEW! PEW! PEW!_**

Flashes of red light filled the roof for brief seconds. Vader saw Willmeif's eyes widen in surprise. He could see smoke rising from behind Willmeif's back. Soon the rebel fell face first onto the roof, exposing the three blaster marks on his back. Kneeling behind Willmeif's dead body was Pamila, shakily holding a blaster in her hand. Vader looked down at Willmeif's holster. It was empty. Then he looked back at Pamila.

Her whole body was bloodied, bruised, and shaking. Still, she manage to smile and shrug. "He talked too much."

Her quivering hand dropped the blaster and she slumped to her side. Vader recalled his lightsaber, deactivated it, and rushed to Pamila's side. Kneeling down, he scooped her up in his arms.

As she lay there, she opened her eyes groggily and smiled, "We gotta stop meeting like this."

Vader let out a small laugh, "No more warehouses. I promise." He caressed her cheek with his hand. "That was very brave of you."

Pamila rolled her eyes, "Not really. I figured if you were willing to go through explosions and fire for me, it's the least I could do. You probably had a plan of your own, huh? I just beat you too it."

Vader gulped, "That doesn't matter now." He held on to Pamila tighter, letting her head rest on his chest. Soon her small hand reached up and touched his cheek. He didn't flinch this time. He leaned into her touch.

Her sapphire eyes sparkled apologetically, "I'd say I'm sorry about your suit, but I like seeing your face."

Vader got ready to respond, but he felt the building shake underneath them. The structure was damaged in the explosions. The building was about to tumble. This wasn't over yet.

 **** ** _Holy Cow! Sorry that took so long to write. I took me forever to get the juices going on this chapter and I still don't like it! :P I might change it later, who knows…. Anyways, I hope you guys can find some merit in it even if I hate its guts! Plus I have been getting really addicted to the Darth Vader comic series! It's sooo good! Especially Vader Down! Omg, Sooo good! Anyways, hope y'all like this chapter and have a good day!_**


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

 **Present Day: Abandoned moon of Kessel**

The rumbling beneath Vader and Pamila was growing. In his mind's eye, Vader could almost see the support beams crumbling and the walls beginning to cave in. He had to get Pamila out of here. The stairs were no longer a viable escape route, not with the building collapsing and the fire growing. It would only serve to endanger Pamila even more. No, there was only one option. It was dangerous, but given the alternatives…

Vader stood up, still holding Pamila in his arms. He walked to the edge of the roof, ignoring his labored breath and the foggy sensation growing in his head.

Pamila looked up at him questioningly, "Vader? What are you doing?"

Vader ignored her.

"Hold on to me." He stated calmly. Soon he was standing at the very edge of the four story building.

A look of realization entered Pamila's eyes, along with fear, "Whoa! Uh…I'm not real comfortable with this! Maybe if we took a moment to figure…!"

Vader jumped, feeling Pamila arms tighten around his neck. She buried her face in his chest, clearly trying to suppress a scream. Using the Force, he made his body decelerate slightly before he reached the ground and absorb the impact. With an audible thump, he landed in a crouched position on the dirt. As he did, he took in a sharp breath, winching at the sudden pain in his chest. He couldn't maintain his healing while softening the landing at the same time. His heart was failing and the fumes of this planet saturated his lungs…But then Vader glanced at Pamila in his arms, seeing her hiding her face near his chest. That moment is what made it all worth it.

Pamila finally showed her face, her eyes open with exhilaration. "Hey! Wow, we're alive! I don't know how you did that, but please, let's _not_ do it again!"

When Vader didn't answer or move out of the crouched position, Pamila looked up at him. She could see his chest heaving now, his eyes beginning to glaze, and his mouth open as he fought to get in air. Cautiously, she moved to touch his cheek. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to meet hers.

Pamila smiled meekly, "Let's get out of here. I think we are both a little worse for wear."

For the first time in forever, Vader truly allowed himself to smile. "So it would seem." Vader stood up slowly with Pamila still securely in his arms. "Don't worry. We are close to my shuttle."

As he made his way back to his shuttle, he could feel Pamila's grip loosen around his neck. Her head bobbed up and down as she lost consciousness. Vader looked over her body as he walked. Given all her blood loss, he was surprised she remained conscious for as long as she did. Before long, he reached the base of the ramp of the shuttle. Two med droids rolled down to meet him.

"What is it you require, my lord?" One asked their monotone, robotic voice.

"Large Bacta-bandages, splints, and an oxygen mask!" Vader barked as he carried Pamila to a cot in the shuttle cabin. "Now droids!"

The droids scurried away while Vader laid Pamila down on the cot. He brushed hair out of her pale face, admiring her sleeping form as he sat in the cabin's seat next to her. When the droids came back, they began placing the Bacta-bandages and splints around Pamila's shins. However, they gave the mask to Vader.

"I do not require this!" Vader bellowed, quickly placing the oxygen mask over Pamila's nose and mouth. As the oxygen was administered, Vader could see her breath fog up the translucent mask. A good sign.

The droids eyed him, "But my lord, your suit's mask is…"

"I am aware of my condition! Get the shuttle going and engage the auto pilot. Set course for the _Executor_."

The droids lowered their heads, "Yes, my lord."

When the shuttle took off, Vader began perusing the medical supplies. He pulled out an anti-bacterial vaccine and an anti-radiation vaccine. All infants were given the Anti-Rad vaccine in this galaxy for the purpose of future space travel. However, since Earth did not have any dealings with interplanetary travel, Pamila would be in desperate need for this shot.

Carefully, he administered both vaccines into her arm. Over the years, Vader had become a skilled medic for he rarely allowed anyone to treat his battle injuries except himself and a handful of droids. After Pamila was taken care of, Vader gave himself the booster vaccine of the Anti-Rad, hoping it would lessen the impact of the radioactive fumes.

Vader grabbed some small Bacta-bandages and started wrapping them around the tips of Pamila's fingers, where her nails had been pulled. Then he placed bandages on the small cuts that littered her body. Soon, nearly all of Pamila was covered in bluish gauze, but she was no less beautiful to Vader. He placed a hand on the crown of her head and bent forward, gently kissing her forehead. He stroked her head softly with his hand.

"I promise you Pamila, soon this will be nothing but a distant memory. No more harm will come to you now. I promise you."

The only response Vader got was Pamila's breathing in her mask, but that was enough for him. She was alive and he was glad of it.

The shuttle arced as it made its way back to the _Executor._ The various sounds of clicking and whirring that followed indicated they were going to land soon. This should have worried Vader. It meant that soon he would be seen on his own Command-Ship without his mask or helmet. His handicaps would be open for all to see. Yet Vader remained unfazed. He simply held onto Pamila's hand as the shuttle docked within the _Executor_. She would be his strength.

After the transport touched down in the docking bay and the ramp was lowered, Vader could see Captain Piett waiting eagerly at the bottom of the gangplank. The captain's eager face quickly became filled with apprehension and horror as an unmasked Vader walked toward him, holding Pamila in his arms. He was not alone. Others in the bay halted whatever they were doing, struck with fear. Many made their way out of the bay as quickly as possible

Piett swallowed dryly. He had nowhere to run. Trying to keep his composure, he averted his eyes from the dark lord's visage. "My lord, how can I be of assistance?"

Vader mentally dismissed the captain's horrified face, "Captain, you are to escort Pamila to the medical bay and remain with her until my arrival."

As Vader gestured that Piett should take Pamila out of his arms and into his own, Piett shook his head in fear. "Oh no, my lord! That wouldn't be appropriate. I…"

Vader shot him a look that made Piett fall silent instantly. Then Vader spoke softly, "I need someone trustworthy to watch over as I attend to my own needs. You are such a person, Captain Piett."

This time when Vader gestured that Piett should take Pamila from him, the captain did not hesitate. Having Darth Vader's trust could probably be the greatest achievement of his naval career. Piett carefully gathered the young woman in his arms and held her securely. Then he looked confidently into Vader's bare face.

"This is an honor, sir. I will guard her with my life."

"Good," Vader nodded. "After I arrive, set course for Mustafar."

Once again, Piett's face flushed with fear, "But the Emperor has requested that you and Pamila return to Coruscant!"

Vader shook his head, "Worry not. I will take responsibility for disobeying that order. Set course for Mustafar."

Defeated, Piett nodded solemnly, "Yes, my lord."

After that was settled, Piett made his way gingerly to the medical bay, being extra careful with his precious cargo. Once he was out of view, Vader made his way to his private quarters. He had a suit to attend to.

… … … … …

Pamila felt like Ricky Ricardo used her head to play Ba-Ba-Loo.

She didn't have the strength to open her eyes. She was still trapped in that state between being asleep and being awake. It felt like she was floating in goop. Her body felt weightless, like her consciousness was suspended on a cloud. Despite the pounding in her head, everything felt peaceful. She didn't know what was happening, couldn't keep her thoughts straight, and could barely remember the past. All she knew was she was safe.

 _Finally_ . . . she was safe.

Eventually, she could feel the sensations around her body. She felt a tight iciness around her shins and her fingertips. There was something foreign on her face, making her feel cluster phobic. It felt really weird. She wanted it off. When she moved her hand to take the thing off her, someone pushed her arm down.

Pamila's eyes shot open and turned to whoever touched her. To her side, she saw a middle aged man with a pleasant face staring at her with greenish-brown eyes. He wore a familiar grey uniform and she could see the greying hair underneath his cap. She also saw him blush as he removed his hand from her arm. Clearly the traditional "Man-cannot-touch-woman" type. Again, that seemed familiar.

 _I know him! Oh crap…What's his name?_

"Please," he said in a gentle British voice. "You need to keep that on. It appears your body isn't used to space travel."

Pamila nodded, still sorting through her memories. She remembered this man came with the Emperor to pick up Vader. When he sat by her on the couch, he avoided touching her so much, he sat on the corner edge of the couch. Pamila remembered thinking he was going to fall off. Then it hit her.

"Piett," she mumbled into her mask. "You're Captain Piett, right?"

He blushed and adjusted his cap nervously. "Yes, my L… Yes miss. You have a good memory."

Pamila smiled and snorted, "Well, it's easy to remember the time space people come to your home."

As Piett blushed once again, Pamila took in her surroundings. It appeared she was lying down in a hospital somewhere, but there was no other patients. Only Piett sitting next to her. There were weird robot things everywhere, which kind of gave Pamila the creeps. She noticed her shins and finger were wrapped in a cold, light blue bandages. It made her feel like a smurf mummy.

"Where am I? Where's Vader?" Pamila asked, her fatigue getting the better of her again.

Piett looked at her with concern, "You are aboard Lord Vader's ship. Specifically in the medical bay. Lord Vader will be back shortly." Piett's worry grew in his eyes. "Are you alright? You suddenly look very pale."

"Yeah, I'm good. Just been a long week. I don't think it helps that I haven't eaten anything in days."

Piett looked guilty. "I'm sorry miss, but the med droids say you can't hold down anything. Your stomach can't handle food."

"That's ok. I'm just sorry you got put on baby-sitting duty."

Piett smiled. "I don't mind. It's a great honor."

 ** _Hoool-Puur . . . Hoool-Puur . . . Hoool-Puur_**

"As it should be," a familiar, deep voice bellowed.

Both Piett and Pamila looked quickly at the doorway. Standing there with his usual bold and dark presence was Darth Vader. Helmet and mask restored, he cut an imposing figure. A new suit free of burns and holes reestablished his dominant air as he black cape spread out behind him. While Piett stood in attention, flushing with fear, Pamila couldn't help but lament not seeing Vader's true form.

Vader walked towards them, his footsteps heavy. With each step, Piett seemed to quiver more and more. Pamila winced. She didn't like seeing people being afraid of Vader. It was just another reminder that he had a shady past that she knew nothing about. More secrets, more darkness, more proof that Willmeif's actions might have been justified.

Before long, Vader was at Pamila's side. Pamila noticed Piett gulp in sheer terror, his bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as Vader stood next to him. Pamila felt her stomach sink.

 _Oh Vader, what skeletons are in your closet?_

"Captain Piett," Vader began to speak. "You are relieved. Set course for Mustafar."

Piett's expression became twitchy, his face growing even whiter, "My lord, I humbly ask that we follow the Emperor's request. The Emperor…"

"Is not here," Vader interrupted sternly. "I am. So I suggest you follow _my_ orders."

"Yes, my lord." Piett said, giving Vader a curt bow before he left the room.

As Vader watched the captain leave, Pamila found the courage to speak, "He's afraid of you."

Vader slowly turned to her, his expression once again unreadable, "Yes, I know."

"Seems to be a trend," Pamila continued. "People either seem to fear you or hate you around here."

"Yes," Vader said simply. Clearly he was not in an explaining mood. However Pamila wanted answers and she wanted them _now_.

"Sheela," Pamila spoke. "She was Willmeif's wife?"

Vader turned to look at Pamila fully now, "Yes. And I know what you are going to ask next. Yes, I killed her, along with their daughter."

Pamila looked at the ceiling, not feeling strong enough to look at Vader, "How o…"

"She was barely two months old." Vader answered quickly and emotionlessly.

"Oh god," Pamila muttered, feeling sick. Not only because the man she loved was a baby killer, but because she was not feeling as disturbed as she should be. Maybe it's because she always suspected and sensed his darkness, but for some reason, she wasn't as distressed as one might expect upon being told the guy you like is a murderer. And that made her feel even guiltier.

Vader must have sensed her feelings, "You don't seem overly surprised."

Pamila scoffed, "I'm not overly thrilled either! But I guess after I found your Glowstick of Death, I figured your…occupation…was less than philanthropic. When Willmeif showed me videos of you…cutting people down, killing them one by one, I couldn't believe you were the same person I rescued. But you are."

It was silent for several moments. For the first time, there was real tension between them. Surprisingly, it was Vader who made the first move. He sat in the nearby chair and held Pamila's injured hand. To Pamila's own surprise, she didn't pull away. She should have pulled away. He was a killer. A brute. But he had her heart. She didn't want to pull away.

"So," he began to say in that alluringly deep voice. "Do you now hate and fear me like all the others?"

Pamila searched her feelings. Did she? The answer scared her.

"Worse," Pamila spoke. "I think I'm in love with you…despite everything. God help me."

If Vader was surprised or taken aback, Pamila couldn't tell. She felt Vader squeeze her hand tighter. She felt her own hand wrap around his. Her mind was screaming two different things: _I love this!_ And… _What the hell am I doing?_

Then something unexpected happened. Vader gently pulled her hand toward his chest, laying her palm flat over his heart. The sudden feeling of his beating heart under her skin made her gasp slightly. She could feel it beating rapidly, just like hers. Pamila blushed as she felt his body heat even through his suit. He placed one hand over her hand on his chest, the other he cupped her cheek. This sweet gesture made Pamila's heart quicken.

He pressed her palm harder against his chest, his heart beating more strongly.

"For you only," he said simply, caressing her cheek with his hand.

As tears welled in Pamila's eyes and fell down her face, Vader silently wiped them away. No more words were spoken. Vader's sweet gestures had stilled all the confusion and all the anger in Pamila's mind. She should have deemed him a cruel murderer, should have demanded he take her home and get the hell out of her life! But she didn't. This was still the man who she rescued, who was kind to her, and who had risked his life to save her. All she could do now was pray that the good outweighed the bad. And hope this man wouldn't be the death of her.

Minutes felt like an eternity. Vader's gloved hand on Pamila's face was a welcome sensation, as was the feeling of his beating heart. Especially in comparison to her days of being tortured. Slowly, Vader removed his hand from her cheek and let her hand drop back onto the bed. He stood up, his tall stature made Pamila feel small. He gave her hand one final squeeze.

"We will arrive at our destination shortly." He said as he began to walk away.

"And where exactly is our 'destination'?" Pamila called out.

Vader looked back, "My fortress." Then he continued walking out the door.

Pamila arched an eyebrow. Fortress? Yeah, because it was totally normal to date a guy with a freaking fortress! Happens all the time… Then again, it's not exactly a cry of sanity to date a guy who has his own spaceship full of people who look like space Nazis!

Pamila rolled her eyes and sighed.

 _What have I done?!_

… … … … … …

She loved him.

Pamila was alive and she loved him. Vader got more than he could ever ask for. All Vader dared to wish for was to rescue Pamila. He succeeded, but in doing so, she learned some terrible truths about him. She learned he was a killer and an enforcer of the Empire. For a moment, her eyes looked at him the same way everyone else's did: Fear. Anger. Resentment. But soon that looked was replaced with something else. Something Vader treasure: Love. Despite all the horrible things she had learned about him, her face could still look at him with affection. Even though she had seen his horrid visage and deformities, she still smiled warmly at him.

A realization washed over Vader. All was as the Force willed it to be. Padme had doubted Anakin, leading to her death and the birth of Darth Vader. For the longest time, Vader deemed it a cruel twist of fate. But now he saw the truth.

Padme was made for Anakin. Padme was meant to die, just like Anakin. Pamila was born for Vader. She was meant to _live._

The clicking of boots sounded behind Vader. Without turning around, Vader addressed the new arrival.

"What is it, Captain Piett?"

When Vader finally turned around, he saw worry lines dig deeply into the captain's face. "My lord, I have set course for Mustafar. However, we have been hailed by Mas Amedda. He says the Emperor demands you make contact with him right away," Piett paused, trying to gather his words. "My lord, I really think you should reconsider follow…"

"I will reconsider nothing!" Vader snapped. "Keep to your current course. I will speak to the Emperor."

Piett bowed as Vader stormed past him, making his way to his private quarters. As he entered the cabin, he sealed the doors behind him, denying access to anyone who tried to enter. Vader kneeled on a pad at the base of the large HoloProjector as he hailed the Emperor. Before long, a sizable image of the Emperor appeared before him. Vader bowed his head in genuflection.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

The Emperor sneered, "You know my bidding, but have elected to ignore it! Captain Piett informs me you ordered him to go to Mustafar even though I requested you come to Coruscant. What exactly is the meaning of this?"

Vader looked up at the image of his Master, "Pamila is sick and injured, Master. What's more, she is also frightened. I think a populated planet like Coruscant would be too much for her to handle at this moment in time."

"Do you now?" the Emperor jeered. He fell silent for several moments before he spoke again. "I hope this won't become a pattern, my apprentice. I hope Pamila will not always serve circumvent my will. If it does, I may not be your Master anymore."

Vader was not afraid, "You are the one who brought her to my attention to begin with, Master. By looking out for her wellbeing, I am doing your bidding."

For a second, Vader could actually see the Emperor look surprised. Vader had never seen the Emperor caught off guard before. This pleased Vader.

The Emperor spoke softly yet menacingly, "Yes, through those constraints, it would appear as if you follow my will." The emperor paused to lean forward, glaring at Vader. "I expect you and Pamila at the Imperial Palace in three days' time. Regardless of her…condition."

Vader gulped and bowed his head, "It will be done, my Master."

The Emperor leaned back, "I know."

As soon as the Emperor killed the transmission, Vader walked out of his quarters. Waiting for him outside was Piett.

"Was the Emperor upset, Lord Vader?"

"That is no concern of yours, Captain." Vader reprimanded. Piett looked defeated and began to walk away, but Vader called him back.

"You are married, are you not?"

Piett cautiously turned around, looking confused. "Yes, my Lord. Nearly seventeen years."

Vader nodded, "Is it a happy marriage?"

Piett gave off a small smile, "I like to think so, sir."

Vader took a step closer to the Captain, "And where did you acquire your wife's ring?"

 ** _Gee, I'm just not liking these last two chapters. But I thank all of you who commented on Pamila/ Vader's reunion chapter. It was nice to see people happy and excited about the chapter : ) Thank you all : ) I'm still not liking this Chapter or the last one, but it may grow on me at some point._**

 ** _And I think I have a crush on a star wars character even more than Darth Vader! Hard to believe right? Nope, it's not Lando, Han, or Poe…It's Grand Admiral Thrawn! I just got the new Thrawn book as a gift. I didn't think I would like it because the original Thrawn trilogy in Legends bored me…but this book was amazing! Thrawn is so smart and calm and charismatic. And despite what you see in Rebels, he actually has a kind and considerate side ;) I have developed quite the crush on him…maybe even more than Vader ;) Nah...that's impossible_**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

 **Present Day: Mustafar's orbit**

With the rest of the navy's Star Destroyers heading back to their regular posts, the _Executor_ situated itself within Mustafar's orbit. Lord Vader had spent most of the voyage in the medical bay, watching over a sleeping Pamila. Every once in a while, Pamila would stir and smile at Vader, but she wasn't strong enough to stay awake for very long.

Vader's usually focused mind had now become scattered. The ring Piett gave his wife was a family heirloom, so that was of no help to Vader. However, he was sure Coruscant had more than enough jewelers to choose from. But could a dark lord of Sith really be seen purchasing an engagement ring? He would have to think carefully on this. Perhaps he would have Piett acquire it for him.

However, the ring was the least of Vader's concern. It was the answer to the question that was Vader's biggest worry. Would she accept him? What would happen if she said no? Should he just return her to Earth? Would he be able to handle that rejection? And if she said yes, then what? What would the marriage be like? He was called away so often to solve the Empire's problems, he would be an absent husband. Could a marriage survive that? Not to mention his tendencies toward violence. Would Pamila be able to handle that?

Then there was another issue. A matter of some delicacy and embarrassment to Vader. If she accepted his proposal, the wedding day was one thing. The wedding night would be something else entirely. Vader's injuries from Mustafar all those years ago were substantial. While in theory it was still possible for him consummate a marriage, it was not guaranteed since he had not engaged in that sort of activity for nearly two decades. And if he could not fulfill all his… _duties_ as a husband, what then? Would she leave him? Turn to the company of other men? All the possibilities swirling in Vader's mind made his blood boil.

A welcomed interruption appeared. A silver protocol droid entered the medical bay and walked toward Lord Vader.

"Sir, Captain Piett has informed me that a shuttle is ready at you convenience to take you and Pamila to your fortress."

Vader nodded once, "As you were, droid."

As the droid made its way out of the medical bay, Pamila began to rouse. Her eyes fluttered then focused on Vader.

"Are we there yet?" she smiled.

"Yes, there is shuttle waiting for us." Vader answered. Pamila tried to sit up, but struggled to keep her weight on her elbows. Vader placed a stabilizing hand on her back and helped push her up. When she was upright, she started coughing profusely into her mask, causing it to fog up. Vader felt helpless as he watched her chest heave. All he could do was hold on to her and wait for it to pass. He worried that this was a lingering symptom from that radioactive, forsaken moon.

When it finally did pass, Pamila looked up at him desperately, "When can I take this stupid mask off?"

"As soon as we arrive on Mustafar and you are stabilized." Vader assured her, caressing the back of her head comfortingly. Then he carefully slipped one arm underneath her knees and wrapped the other one around her back, lifting her off the hospital bed, taking the mobile oxygen dispenser with them.

As Pamila let her head rest against his chest, he heard her mumble, "I'm sorry that I'm heavy."

"You are not heavy." He replied plainly, making his way toward their shuttle. It was true. He could barely feel her weight in his arms.

The walk to the shuttle was uneventful. Vader silently enjoyed the looks from the officers and crewman as he walked by with Pamila in his arms. In the past, they had seen Vader dragging prisoners through these halls for "questioning", many never to be seen again. They were not use to seeing a more gentle side of their leader. Vader would need to learn to manage his crew and make sure his softness toward Pamila did not affect the morale of _Executor's_ crew. He would need to learn to balance his married life with his life as an enforcer. That is, _if_ he got married.

He walked into the ready shuttle, placing Pamila on the medical cot softly. Piett had arranged for a droid to pilot the shuttle to Vader's fortress. As the shuttle sealed itself and launched, Vader watched Pamila's eyes grow heavier, fighting to stay awake.

He touched her hand gently, "Rest. You need it."

"No," She mumbled, trying to sit up again. "I want to look out the window."

Vader, forgetting Pamila was not used to space travel, tilted his head quizzically, "There is nothing of interest."

Pamila shot him a look, "To you, no. But to a girl who comes from a planet whose biggest accomplishment was going to the barren moon in the 60's and 70's, there is _a lot_ of interest."

Vader sighed, resigning himself to her will, he helped her sit up to look through the window, "As you wish."

While Pamila watched the stars go by, Vader watched her intently as her face lit up with wonder. A smile grew in the corners of her mouth and her eyes glistened in the light of the stars.

"It's beautiful," Pamila whispered.

Vader found no beauty in the stars. He was only mesmerized by the beauty hidden within Pamila. He could feel the Light side of the Force radiating from her. The feeling of her aura next to his own was both foreign and wonderful. A beaming aura and a strong connection to the Force is what made Pamila such a great healer. In that moment, Vader was thankful that Pamila was born outside the Empire. Her Force-sensitivity could have led to her execution had she been born in this galaxy. Most likely by Vader's hand.

The shuttle's windows glowed red as they entered the heated atmosphere of Mustafar. As the brutal terrain of the planet came into view, the mystified look in Pamila's eyes morphed into fear. She could now see the darkened stone, the thick lava rivers, and ash clouds that the planet was comprised of.

"What is this place?" Pamila muttered under her breath.

Vader's jaw tightened. He sometimes forgot how harsh this planet appeared to others. Calling it his home didn't feel right. He had to somehow put her mind at ease about this planet. He gently placed a hand on her back, rubbing up and down her spine comfortingly.

"Your sanctuary." Vader spoke into her ear.

She turned to him, her face a mixture of emotions. The fear was still present, but now it was coupled with a subtle look of trust. That look made Vader all the more determined to never betray that trust.

The two pectoral fins of the shuttle descended downwards as it landed on the platform to Vader's fortress. Vader once again scooped Pamila into his arms, reveling in the feeling of her arms around his neck. The shuttles walkway lowered and the touching moment was abruptly cut short. Huddled in the center of the platform was a group of people with cameras in their hands and datapads at the ready to take notes. Journalists! Low-life reporters willing to do anything to get a story. Never before had their kind set foot on Mustafar. Not while Vader occupied it. In the middle of the group was Vanee, who wore a guilt-stricken look upon his face.

It didn't take long for the reporters to rush over to Vader as he walked down the gangplank. Vader had to fight his instincts. He wanted to react and push them all into the nearby lava using the Force. But Pamila was there. He didn't want her to see him take a life. Ever.

The news people already had their camera's ready, getting as many shots of Vader carrying Pamila as they could.

Pamila looked up at Vader, "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure. Just relax. I will handle it."

As soon as Vader pushed through the crowd, that's when the questions came rushing in.

 _"_ _Is Pamila expected to survive?"  
"What's her condition?"_

 _"_ _Where was she being held prisoner?"_

 _"_ _What about Willmeif? Is he alive?"_

 _"_ _Is Freedom with Blood still a threat?"_

Vader didn't answer a single question. He didn't even look at the reporting scum. He just held on to Pamila tightly as she hid her face against him and pushed his way through the mob, ready to pounce on Vanee. Vader's attendant looked like a small, pale bug by the time his master reached him.

Vader loomed over Vanee, his voice venomous, "Give me a reason not to terminate you."

Vanee's feeble body shook as he struggled to speak, "I-I had no choice, my lord. I had o-orders…"

"Not my orders!" Vader thundered, making both Pamila and Vanee jump. Vader felt remorse for Pamila. He couldn't care less about Vanee.

"No sir. Not yours," Vanee whimpered. "The Emperor's"

Vader stood stunned, "The Emperor?"

"Yes, my lord. He insisted they be here for your arrival since you were unable to make it to Coruscant. They were even escorted by Royal Guards and Death Troopers. I had no choice!" Vanee groveled.

All the muscles in Vader's body clenched. The Emperor sent journalists to his private residence?! Why? As punishment for disobeying him? Sidious had doled out punishments before, but none as low as this.

Pamila must have sensed Vader's frustration. Soon he felt her gentle hand running across his chest. He looked down to see she was looking at him with sweet, pleading eyes.

"Please," she murmured. "Let's just forget about them and go inside. What's done is done."

Vader looked at the crowd, feeling his anger seething. He should kill them all. Send the Emperor a message. But then he saw Pamila's delicate hand gently pawing at his chest, begging him to let his frustration go. Finally, Vader sucked in a deep breath through his mask and focused his attention solely on Pamila.

"Very well," Vader spoke through gritted teeth. "We shall let bygones be bygones."

Focusing his mind on the entryway to his fortress, Vader tried to ignore the reporting rats scuttling across the landing pad. He made his way into the fortress, the obsidian sliding doors slamming in the faces of the reporters. Vanee walked fearfully in the dark lord's wake. As it should be.

Vader could feel Pamila moving slightly in his arms, trying to get a better look at her surroundings. Her eyes looked up, soaking in all the details of the dark, engraved walls. The she looked down at the black metallic floor. Her face flushed as she saw lava streaming underneath the floor they stood on.

"Huh," she exhaled. "Well, I never thought I would date a guy who lived in Barad-Dur."

Vader turned his head to look at her, "What is Barad-Dur?"

Pamila just smiled, "Nothing. Just a fictional place from a book. It looked a lot like this."

"Is that a good?" Vader asked.

Pamila shrugged, "Depends. Do you have an evil ring you can use to enslave the minds of men?"

Vader furrowed his brow, "No."

Pamila giggled slightly into her mask, patting her hand on his chest reassuringly, "Then it is a good thing."

Vader wanted to question the matter more, but the Pamila snuggled up to his chest again, and all the questions flew from his mind. He just carried her into the medical room, looking forward to the future.

… … … … …

 **Two days later…**

News and images of Pamila's and Vader's safe return to Mustafar had been well circulated throughout the galaxy. The footage was shown on a loop on Coruscant, per the Emperor's insistence. The usually reclusive Emperor was now giving speeches and public appearances on a near daily basis, praising Pamila's resilience and Vader's bravery while shaming the horrid Rebellion for their crimes against the galaxy. He also informed the public that Pamila would arrive on Coruscant soon. Before long, more and more people began flying in their cruisers past the Imperial Palace, trying to catch a glimpse of Pamila, hoping she arrived one day early. Palpatine noted how his security bristled at all the speeders flying so close to the palace, but Palpatine waved it off and said he would be more concerned if they didn't.

Farther away on a moon near Geonosis, Tarkin sat in security briefing with the increasingly arrogant and flustered Director Krennic. Krennic was updating him on how Galen Erso reported gas leaks with the current exhaust port. Krennic talked about Erso's plans to relocate and rework the exhaust port, but Tarkin wasn't listening. A nearby HoloProjector was airing the recent HoloNet news. From the corner of his eye, Tarkin saw the footage of Vader carrying an injured Pamila down the ramp of a shuttle. The sight of Pamila's face snuggled near Vader infuriated Tarkin. Vader had won and he, Grand Moff Tarkin, had lost! Pamila would now be the handbag of that monster and it was all approved by that senile Emperor! Now Tarkin was condemned to work with the over-stuffed Krennic and his deluded aspirations.

However, Pamila's recent rescue had effected no planet more than Alderaan. A planet where protestors used to peaceably gather to rally against taxation and increasing imperial control. A planet where its citizens happily turned the other cheek at the accusations that it's government supported the Rebellion. Now, Bail Organa leaned against the rail of one of the palace's verandas, looking down onto the square. What he saw filled him with despair. No longer were his citizens protesting the Empire. Now the protested the Rebellion. They shouted curses for the Rebellion, condemning it as evil. They carried signs, most of which called out Bail and his family for supporting a heinous organization. Some even called for a change in Alderaan's leadership, calling the Organa's corrupt rebels. They praised Pamila and Vader, calling their love a triumph.

Bail sighed, leaning his elbows on the rail and hanging his head low.

Without the support of the people, the Rebellion was dead. The Emperor got exactly what he wanted. The Rebellion had fallen out of the peoples good graces. Death to the Rebellion. Long Live the Empire.

Bail didn't hear Leia come up behind him. He jumped slightly as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Soon he recovered and tried to smile warmly at her, but it was hard to manage.

Leia looked at the angry crowd below, then back at her father. "What are we going to do?"

Bail inhaled stiffly, trying to maintain his regal composure. He nodded, as if finally reaching a conclusion. "We will do what we always do, Leia. We shall be patient and hold on to hope. The Emperor may have won this day and perhaps the next, but this victory cannot last. It _will_ not last."


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

 **Present Day: On a shuttle on route to the Imperial Palace**

Pamila fidgeted in the passenger's seat of the shuttle. She had spent three days in Vader's volcanic home and despite the bleak surroundings, it actually was a pleasant experience. The duration of it was mostly spent in another personality-devoid hospital room where Vader rarely left her side. He spent time tending to her legs, insuring that the bones in her shins healed properly. He also made her feel like a pin cushion, making the little robots take multiple blood tests and administer a junkies-dream worth of pain-killers and sedatives. It was clear he was taking no chances with her wellbeing. Pamila found it both cute and annoying.

Many times she insisted that he take a break and go attend to whatever his job requires him to do. But he insisted just as hard that he needed to stay. She swore to him that she would be fine on her own for a little while, but he never left. Pamila began to feel like a zoo animal. Vader constantly watched over, reacting to any cough like a call-to-arms! As flattering as the attention was, Pamila just wanted a few moments to herself so she could just rest. It got particularly awkward when he gave her a sponge bath to clean the dirt and grime off of her. Pamila tried not to blush as he peeled way her blood soaked rags from her naked skin, but she was pretty sure her entire body turned radish red. After he disposed those rags he helped her into a plain white dress. Having him undress then re-dress her made her feel like a doll. He, in his classic air, was as cool as a cucumber! He could have been blushing, but how would she know?

Now they had made the journey to planet called Coruscant. Vader told her the planet was one big city. As amazing as that sounded, Pamila didn't really feel up to another meet-and-greet with the Emperor. However, Pamila knew Vader ignored his "request" once . . . That was probably not something that should be repeated a second time.

Pamila looked over at Vader, who was in the cockpit because he insisted on piloting the ship by himself. She could only see the reflection of his mask on the windshield. Despite all the times in his home where she wished he would leave her alone, she now wished he was back there holding her hand. Now she was sitting by herself against a wall with five soldiers in all black standing against the wall opposite her. She thought she remembered Vader called them Death Troopers.

 _Sounds pleasant,_ Pamila thought.

Vader flipped a few switches in the cockpit and got out of the pilots seat, moving into the cabin. Maybe he heard her silent plea. Unfortunately, he did not move towards Pamila. Instead he went to the soldiers.

"Auto-pilot is engaged." Vader spoke in his no-nonsense voice. "When we land at the Palace, form a perimeter around Pamila, the Emperor, and myself. In the case of a large crowd, I want at least three troopers shadowing Pamila at all times. Understood?"

The troopers did some sort of salute with their hands, "Yes sir!"

After that was settled, Vader then moved to sit next to Pamila. As he did, Pamila placed one of her hands on top of his.

"Do I _really_ need an armed escort?" she asked pleadingly.

Vader didn't look at her but covered her hand with his, "I am not taking any chances."

Pamila snorted and tried to smile, "I can see that. How come you don't get an escort?"

Now he looked at her, tilting his head as if to ask: _Really?_ The he tapped the hilt of his Lightsaber with his hand.

Pamila rolled her eyes and sighed, "Right…sorry. Forget I asked."

Vader patted her hand reassuringly, like: _It's okay you forgot I'm a badass murderer._

Pamila shuddered. There were many aspects about this situation she didn't think she would ever get used to.

And they were about to meet up with one right now.

The thought of seeing the Emperor again made Pamila taste sour in her mouth. Most likely because that fortune-teller told her the Emperor was using her. But then again, that could've been the absent-minded babble of an old woman. At least that's what Pamila _hoped_ it was.

When Pamila first met the Emperor, he had acted nice enough, but it all felt fakey. His smile never seemed sincere and his words sounded icky as they left his dried mouth. Pamila remembered how his yellow eyes appeared flat and dead. There was no spark of life within them, just a hollow, insatiable need.

As if hearing her thoughts and worries, Vader wrapped a black-clad arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. He said nothing, but his actions were reassuring enough. Pamila began to wonder if Vader had his own anxieties about this meeting. Over the past few days, it became clear to Pamila that something was bugging her knight, but of course, he wouldn't tell her.

Pamila felt the shuttle descending, hearing the landing gears engage. Before long, they touched down and the shuttle ramp began to extend downwards. Wind whipped into the cabin, carrying a strong metallic smell. There was no smell of rain or trees in the air, just a stench that reminded Pamila of concrete and people. Lots of people.

Light also filled the cabin as the Death Troopers moved out. It was an orangey-gold, indicating it was almost sunset. Vader stood, offering Pamila his arm, which she gladly accepted. They walked down the gangplank together, Pamila's white dress glowing brightly in contrast to Vader's dark suit. While Pamila's shins had healed nicely, her gate was still wonky and she was grateful for Vader giving her extra support.

As they walked down the ramp, Pamila saw the Emperor waiting for them, but what truly caught her attention was the scenery. It was striking. Tall, tower-like buildings whose windows glittered in the golden sunlight dazzled Pamila. The sky was a combination of orange and pink, reminding Pamila of a pastel painting. Ships buzzed past in constant straight lines, putting the freeways in LA to shame. Through some of the flying cars' windows, Pamila could see the passengers gawking at her. As they did, Pamila pulled her gossamer white shawl closer to her, feeling the need to hide. Vader gave her arm a gentle squeeze, snapping her out of her insecure mind-frame.

While lost in her distracted thoughts, Pamila didn't realize they had almost reached the Emperor and his red-clad bodyguards. However, she soon felt the Emperor's dark, sickly, yet powerful aura overlap with hers, making a chill run down her spine. Her gaze reluctantly shifted towards him. She could only see his mouth and chin because his black cowl cast a shadow over most of his face, which was only aided by the intense sunset lighting. Pamila was thankful for this. At least she wouldn't have to see those creepy eyes.

"Aw, Pamila! I can't tell you how relived I am to see you well." the Emperor said in a soft, cooing voice as they stood in front of him. Pamila tried not to recoil as the Emperor grasped her free hand and brought it to his lips. His kiss made her skin crawl, but Pamila remained steady. She could see Vader's muscles tighten beneath his suit, but he held his tongue.

When the Emperor finally let her hand drop, Pamila congratulated herself for being able to smile, "Thank you for having me."

The iconic insincere smile formed on the Emperor's face, "You gave us all quite a scare. Such a terrible ordeal you went through. You showed great resilience in the face of darkness. That will be useful in the future, I'm sure." The Emperor finished, shifting his glance towards Vader momentarily.

Pamila looked at the ground and swallowed dryly, "I'm just happy it's over. I didn't mean to be any trouble."

The Emperor laughed and wrapped her free arm around his, making Vader release his hold on her other arm, "Such modesty in one so young. Come! I have a little surprise for you."

As the Emperor led Pamila away, Vader followed. The Emperor turned to Vader with an amused expression, "Lord Vader, please supervise the launching of the _Devastator_ on Base 132. I do not have faith in Captain Yugards abilities." If Vader was going to protest, the Emperor waved him off, holding on tightly to Pamila. "Worry not, Pamila will be safe with me. The deployment should not take long to oversee. We will be here when you return."

Pamila tried to keep her expression neutral, but she was sure her eyes showed her desperate need for Vader to stay and not leave her alone with Mr. Scary. Vader stood stiff for moment, but then gave a curt bow as her turned to walk away, signaling to his Death Troopers that they should stay with Pamila.

"As you wish."

Pamila didn't even get the chance to see Vader's shuttle pull away. The Emperor was gently forcing her to walk by his side. The sound of the bodyguard's footsteps echoed behind them. Pamila didn't dare show any signs of resistance. Even though the Emperor had the façade of a frail old man, Pamila suspected there was a dark power lurking within that feeble demeanor. If there wasn't, why else would Vader be so loyal to this creep? But like Vader, this man was impossible to read.

Letting her thoughts get the better of her, Pamila was silent as they crossed a walkway to what looked like a larger-than-life castle of metal and glass.

"Astonishing, isn't it?" The Emperor asked rhetorically, snapping Pamila back into the present.

Pamila blinked a few times, trying to center herself, "Oh yes. Never seen anything like it."

"Indeed," the Emperor chuckled. "However, I was not referring to the palace."

Pamila risked looking at him, "Oh?"

"I was referring to you and a woman's sense of loyalty. Despite all my years, I am often baffled by the ways of women. Particularly on who they chose to fall in love with."

Pamila stopped dead in her tracks and yanked her arm out from under his, "Excuse me?"

The Emperor appeared to be unaffected by her sharp attitude. In fact, he seemed to relish it, "Willmeif showed you footage of Lord Vader, did he not? Told you stories of his brutality and power?"

Pamila felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders tighten, "Yes."

"And what did you think as those horrible images played out in front of you?" the Emperor inquired coyly.

Pamila tried to stand her ground, though her voice trembled as she spoke, "With all due respect Emperor, but that's my business. Not yours."

The Emperor's yellow teeth became visible as he smiled broadly, "Your resistance is answer enough, sweet child. Your thoughts betray you. You found Vader to be a monster, just like all the others in the galaxy…"

"No!" Pamila snapped. "I found his actions monstrous. Not him."

"But actions speak louder than words. It is not as if you can sever a man from his actions." The Emperor countered cruelly. Pamila opened her mouth for another verbal attack, but to her chagrin, she had nothing to say.

The Emperor smiled at her dumbfoundedness, turning his back to her and began speaking again, "Regardless, you have learned some terrible truths about Lord Vader, yet, you still love him. Don't dare deny it! I can feel it surging within you. Despite all the fear you have of Vader, your love blinds you. Women are such fickle beings"

Pamila rarely got angry. She usually found anger to be a useless emotion and wasted time that could have been used to solve the problem. Now she could not stop her temperature rising in her blood, her inhibitions lowering. Pamila wanted to run and push the frail man over the edge of the high walkway and call him out for being manipulative, misogynistic pig!

Something stilled her. A serene calm filled her heart as the heat in her face left. In her mind she saw brief flashes of images: _Vader kneeling, bells ringing, and people cheering. Then it shifted to a dark room. The blonde haired boy from her dreams was there, except now he was a man. He was on the floor as the Emperor electrocuted him with only his hands. Then Vader appeared and picked the Emperor up, throwing him from a precipice._

The images left her mind and she was back on the walkway with the Emperor, who seemed oblivious to the fact that she had zoned out for a second. Eventually he turned to look at her, patiently waiting for her to speak

 _"_ _Play the game,"_ a soft voice inside her spoke. _"Have patience. It is not your destiny to destroy him. You are a healer, not an executioner. Heal Vader and your family. They need you."_

Listening to the voice (even though she didn't understand the last bit), Pamila smiled at the Emperor, "Forgive me, my Lord. I have spent the last three days confined to a hospital room and a week before that, I was imprisoned by Rebels. I am sorry for my harsh tone. All that matters is that Vader rescued me and I am grateful for it. Please forgive me for speaking out of turn." Pamila hated herself for apologizing, but her gut told her to listen to the quiet voice in her mind.

For a moment, the Emperor seemed disappointed by her response. The corners of his mouth dropped slightly, the rest of his face falling into a saddened stupor. He quickly recovered, plastering that fake smile on his face once more. He made his way over to Pamila, gently placing his hands on her biceps, the smile never leaving his face, "Worry not. Nothing but water under the bridge." Again he moved to her side and linked his arm with hers. "Come! We must not keep them waiting."

Pamila arched an eyebrow and tried to smile, "Keeping who waiting?"

The Emperor's smile widened, "My surprise."

 ** _Hey Guys (and Gals)! Thanks for coming back. Sorry for another filler chapter, but for those of you who think this story is too long, I think there will be only two more chapter after this: The Emperor's Surprise & then the Grand Finale! Then I will start the process of splicing some chapters together to make this story have slightly fewer chapters : ) Thanks to you have stuck around ;) Hope you liked this chapter!_**

 ** _PS: I'm so jazzed for the new Darth Vader comic coming out today ;)_**


	39. Half of Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

 **Present Day: The Imperial Palace**

All breath and words left Pamila as soon as the Emperor's guards opened the doors to the palace's Grand Hall. It certainly lived up to its name! The floor, the walls, and the columns were made out of a pinkish-tan colored marble that looked quite exquisite (and expensive). The ceiling was a series of arches and domes that hung high over Pamila's head. Like nose-bleed high! In the center of the room was a large, round, dark wooden dining room table. Fancy cushioned high-back chairs surrounded the massive table.

Then there was the people in those chairs.

Not people. Men! Only men! Male eyes seemed to light up as they caught sight of Pamila all dressed in white. Pamila stifled the urge to shudder and gag. They openly gawked at her as she walked into the room, ogling her form. As much as Vader tendency towards violence bugged her, she wished he was here to scare off the spectators. She could have used his Glowstick of Death right about now!

Everyone (cough…cough MEN) was either dressed in the military uniform Pamila had become familiar with or dressed how Pamila imagined nobility in the Renaissance dressed: Very over the top and regal! With the men in uniform, their rank plagues had little squares on them that reminded Pamila of Starbursts. If they got hungry, they could always demote themselves.

The Emperor's guards took their position at the door. The guards Vader had left with Pamila trailed behind her upon the Emperor's approval. Pamila noted the pressure of the Emperor's grasp on her arm. Even though the pressure he applied was light, it was still controlling and menacing. The smile he wore was meant to comfort her while warning her that resistance would be unwise. Pamila surrendered to his hold…for now. She tried her best not to look at him or the crowd they approached directly. Her nerves were brittle. She didn't know if she could handle such a large social interaction.

But she had no choice.

As the Emperor and Pamila reached the table, all the men at the table stood up in a show of respect. The respect was meant for the Emperor, but all eyes were on her. She hated it. The Emperor loved it.

"Gentleman," the Emperor began to speak. "May I present Pamila, Lady of Earth."

They all bowed their heads and mumbled greetings. Pamila was about to correct he statement, saying she had no title and did not officially represent Earth; but as soon as she tried to speak, the Emperor suddenly tightened his hold on her arm, warning to remain silent. Pamila turned her gaze to the table, not wanting to look at her audience.

While most of the men were respectfully silent, one man was brave enough to speak.

"How are you feeling, Pamila?" An eerily familiar voice spoke.

The sound of this man's voices made Pamila stop staring at the table. Her gaze shot up, looking for the source of that familiar voice. Then she saw him and the wind got knocked out of her.

It was him! It was Bail, the bearded man from her dream all those weeks ago! Father of Leia. First the confirmation that Freedom with Blood was real and now this! Pamila felt her pulse rise. She should be happy she wasn't going crazy, but if Freedom with Blood is real and so is Bail, what about Padme? Was she really Padme in a past life? And if so, what was Padme's connection to Bail?

Or better yet, what was Padme's connection to Vader (since Pamila only got these vision after meeting him)?

Pamila wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to that particular question.

Pamila must have been silent for a very long time because she heard the men in the room clearing their throats awkwardly as the Emperor gave her arm a not-so-gentle squeeze. Pamila snapped out of the trance she was in and shifted her gaze frantically among all the male faces, landing back on Bail's quizzical expression.

 _Shit! Say something! Say something now, you idiot!_

Pamila gulped, reminding herself not to say his name as she spoke, "I am . . . fine. Thank you. Just a little rattled."

"That is quite understandable, given your previous ordeal," Bail smiled kindly, his bright face and patient disposition putting Pamila at ease instantly. "On behalf of Alderaan and everyone here, we are all glad you are now safe and sound."

Pamila crinkled her eyebrows, "Alderaan?"

Bail let out a breathy laugh and placed his hand on his chest as an apologetic gesture, "Forgive my rudeness. I have not introduced myself properly. I am Bail Organa, senator of Alderaan, a planet within the Core. My wife is Breha. Queen of Alderaan."

 _This is my chance,_ Pamila thought. _My chance to ask about Leia!_

"Wow! Those are some impressive titles," Pamila exclaimed crudely. "I'm sure you and your wife must have some beautiful children."

Bail seemed surprised she mentioned children, but he quickly blushed with pride and looked down at the table bashfully, "Yes. A daughter named Leia."

 _Great! More confirmation,_ Pamila thought, feeling her stomach sour. _I think I liked it better when I was just nuts!_

"Leia," Pamila repeated, trying to sound surprised as she smiled. "That's a pretty name."

Bail and Pamila smiled at each other kindly for a moment; like old friends meeting after years of separation. They were temporarily oblivious to their surroundings, tuning the rest of the room out. However, the rest of the room was not to be ignored.

Pamila felt an all too familiar squeeze on her arm. That goddamn Emperor sure knew how to ruin a moment! Pamila dared to glance at the shriveled ruler. She saw his smile had diminished and his eyes were shooting her a warning glare. Instead of cowering, Pamila gave him the same glare back. Give him a taste of his own medicine. See how he likes it!

For a second (truly, just a mere second) the Emperor was taken aback, but quickly regained his composure. He then turned his attention back to his guests.

"Gentlemen," he spoke in his strained, sinister voice. "Please take your seats."

All the men eagerly sat. They looked at each other awkwardly as if wondering why they were there in the first place. The only one who seemed slightly at ease was Bail, who kept shifting his gaze at Pamila. While the other men leered at her lustfully, Bail's eyes were filled with innocent intrigue and curiosity.

The Emperor quickly gained a more "friendly" façade. He smiled as everyone took their seats at his command, seeming to enjoy his power. He stared introducing the men at the table one by one. All were either nobility or military officers, but Pamila wasn't paying attention nor did she give a damn! All she wanted was for this fiasco to end and to have a private conversation with Senator Organa. He seemed like a trustworthy guy and for some reason, had a connection with her (or Padme…same thing…maybe…). Maybe he could be a friend, given she was stuck in this galaxy for the foreseeable future…

Did she want to go home? Or better yet…

Was she even _allowed_ to go home?

Pamila shook her head, trying to keep the questions from running rampant in her mind. She had a sinking suspicion that like Vader, the Emperor had a knack for reading people's thoughts. No need to give him ammunition.

Before long, servers with large silver trays appeared and made their way over to the grand table. The trays were filled with individual plates full of food that was foreign to Pamila (she guessed it was some sort of salad). They moved to stand between the chairs the guests occupied and placed the trays carefully on the table, distributing the plates to everyone present. One very young waiter was forced to bring the Emperor his food. Pamila could see his hands trembling as he cautiously placed the fancy plate in front of the Emperor, snatching his hands away as soon as possible and left the room along with the rest of servers. The Emperor didn't spare any of them a second glance. Pamila felt he was focused on her, even with his eyes gazing at his food. She could feel him gauging her movements and her reaction to this new experience.

He was, for all intents and purposes, sizing her up.

 ** _*****_** Would he conclude she was an enemy or an ally? ** _*****_**

 _Oh who cares? I'm hungry!_ Pamila's mind decided.

Pamila eagerly picked up her fork and started picking at the food on her fancy plate. She tasted some of the fruit (or at least she guessed it was fruit). For being food from an alien planet, it really didn't taste any different than food on Earth. This bummed out Pamila. She was at least hoping for some more awesome food if she was going to be stuck in space.

More waiters came out and served drinks. A waiter put a tall glass in front of Pamila that was full of blue milk.

Pamila rolled her eyes, remembering this drink from her dreams. _What is with these people and blue milk?_

The entire table fell into an acceptable hush. It wasn't an easy silence. No one could truly put their guard down in the presence of the Emperor. Some of the men softly broke the silence and started talking shop. Something about cruisers, ships, and deployments. Stuff Pamila didn't understand.

Once in a while, Pamila would casually glance at Bail. She wasn't interested in him romantically. For better or worse, her heart belonged to Vader, but Bail intrigued her like a friend would. Every mannerism and facial expression of his gnawed at the back of Pamila's mind. It was all so familiar, but every time she came close to remembering something, it slipped away!

When she kept meeting his gaze and saw that he was studying her, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing about her. He wasn't ogling her, just studying, as if puzzling her out. Pamila wondered what it was exactly he was looking for…

The sound of creaking wood startled everyone. They all looked quickly away from their plates and turned to the source of the sound. The large wood doors to the Grand Hall were opening. As they slowly swung open, Darth Vader marched through them.

Once again, Pamila could feel the people's auras change. Before, the auras of the men sitting at the table were full of curiosity, hunger, and lust. There was some fear of the Emperor, but the Emperor was level headed enough not to be an immediate threat. Now everyone's energy felt terribly cold and fearful to Pamila. All except the Emperor. His energy suddenly felt warm, as if amused.

Pamila sighed to herself, _I never thought I'd have an intimidating boyfriend! All my other boyfriends were skinny, pale nerds. Both of them._

It didn't take long for Vader to reach the table, making all the guests shrink away from him. Bail didn't shrink. His face paled at the sight of Darth Vader, but his back still stood straight with confidence.

Vader's black orbed gaze locked with Bail's. Pamila could feel the tension between them. She could see the muscles in both of their bodies tighten as they stared at each other. There was clearly a history between them, perhaps a rivalry. This just left Pamila (once again) with more questions than answers.

 _Guess I should be used to it by now!_

Soon Vader turned his face away from Bail and looked at Pamila, making his way toward her. She could feel him relax slightly, but there was still anger radiating from his body. He was quickly by her side and stood behind her chair. Pamila wondered why he didn't sit, but then she realized he was probably doing his _I'm-intimidating-so-don't mess-with-my-girl_ thing. In some ways, Pamila was grateful for this. At least the horny men at the table stopped leering at her from under their slightly-drunken eyelids.

"Lord Vader. I'm glad you could join us." The Emperor cooed sinisterly. "How was the launch of the _Devastator_?"

"Inconsequential," Vader answered brusquely, which somehow made the Emperor smile.

"Good. Now on to my surprise. If everyone would follow me, please."

… … … … … … …

As the Emperor slowly stood from his chair, everyone watched the old man with a renewed sense of curiosity. All the men stood and reluctantly left their aromatic foods behind. Meanwhile, Vader's heart filled with a heavy sense of dread. What vile event did his Master have planned? Surprises from Sidious were never pleasurable. And with Pamila present, would his Master's scheme be even more evil?

Vader side-stepped as Pamila got out of her chair. He could see her legs begin to wobble as she stood. She had not fully recovered from her time of imprisonment. Discretely, Vader slipped his arm around her waist, tightening his hold so he could give her some stability. She smiled up at him sweetly and cuddled a little bit closer to him as they walked. He could feel her nervousness about the Emperor's surprise, but the sight of her smile melted Vader's heart.

Everyone followed slowly behind the Emperor as he traversed the dark, maze-like hallways of the Palace. Officers and nobility whispered conspiratorially to each other, trying to figure out what was going on. Many glanced over at Vader, their eyes widening at the sight of his arm cinched around Pamila's tiny waist. It was not something they had seen before, nor ever expected to see. No one had seen Vader show any sign of affection towards anyone or anything.

 _Men!_ Vader thought angrily. _Why only men?_

Vader began to wonder if the Emperor was trying to spite him when Senator Organa appeared next to Pamila, managing to catch Vader off guard.

"Are you alright, Pamila? Is everything okay?" the senator inquired, his voice full of concern. Vader could see Organa's eyes darting from Pamila's face to Vader's arm which held her upright. But Organa did not know that Pamila was willingly in the arms of a Dark Lord. Organa thought Vader's arm around Pamila's waist was some sort of controlling, manipulation tactic; forcing her to obey his will. The senator was trying to see if he needed to intervene and save a damsel in distress. Anakin never liked when Bail Organa monopolized Padme, and Vader certainly did not approve of Organa's interest in Pamila.

However, when Pamila smiled genuinely at Organa, the senator seemed surprised, "Oh yes, Mr. Organa. I'm fine."

Bail cocked his head to the side in curiosity, baffled by Pamila's happiness being in Vader's grasp. He kept pace with Pamila (much to Vader's annoyance) and glanced at Vader, "Well Lord Vader, I must admit this is quite a sight. I don't think I have ever seen you walking side by side with a woman before."

"I didn't know that who I chose to walk by is any concern of yours, senator." Vader retorted snidely. Soon after he spoke those words, he felt Pamila punch him lightly in the chest. He looked down at her, stunned that anyone was brave enough to strike him even in a playful manner. In her eyes was a clear message: _Be nice!_

"I'm merely trying to say it's a nice change of pace," Organa added humbly. "None of us can live in solitude forever. We all need somebody."

Vader didn't respond, letting the trio fall into an awkward silence.

"And how long have you been married, Mr. Organa?" Pamila asked, trying to fill the quiet space.

The senator smiled broadly, "Bail, please. And I have been married a little over thirty years."

"Wow, longer than I've been alive!" Pamila said in amazement. Vader winced at the reminder of their dramatic age difference.

"And how old is you daughter? Leia?" Pamila asked innocently.

At this, Vader felt Organa suddenly stiffen and grow fearful. Vader looked at the senator fully now. His bearded face had become a definite shade of white and he pulled at the sleeves of his tunic nervously, as if trying to hide something within him. His gaze guiltily shifted toward the floor as his pace slowed. Even Pamila noticed. She looked at him with concern then glanced at Vader, as if asking for clarification on what was happening. But Vader did not know.

 _What is he hiding?_ Vader wondered, filing away inquiries for later.

"Bail, are you okay?" Pamila asked. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"No! No!" Bail responded a little too quickly. "I'm fine. Of course I am…uh…just a little dazed. Yeah…uh…what were we talking about?"

Pamila looked back at Vader as if asking for permission to re-ask her simple question. Vader nodded subtly to her once, suddenly curious about the answer himself. She then looked back at Bail, "I was just wondering how old your daughter is."

"Oh right! Yes, well, she's nineteen." Bail finally answered, his gaze actively avoiding Vader's.

Pamila went a little quiet before she responded, "Huh, she could have been a freshman while I was a senior in high school."

Both Bail and Vader looked at her questioningly, "High school?" Bail asked.

Pamila rolled her eyes and waved him off, "Long explanation and not enough time. I think we've reached your Emperor's _surprise_."

And they had. The Emperor led them to a set of dark wooden doors, which two Royal Guards opened slowly. The adjoining room was pitch black, but the Emperor walked in confidently. Everyone else looked at each other nervously, not daring to take a step forward. Even as Pamila tried to take step toward the room, Vader tightened his grip around her waist, keeping her in place.

"Come in!" the Emperor called out from the shadows. "Come and see my surprise for young Pamila."

Vader's shoulder muscle's stiffened. _Surprise for young Pamila…_ What horrid plan had this old man concocted?

In a hesitant single file line, the officers and noblemen shuffled into the dark room. Lord Vader, Pamila, and Bail were the last to enter the room due to Pamila's slow and weakened state. The lights suddenly switched on. They were harsh and blinding, causing Vader's optical scanners to fritz and readjust. Once he could finally see clearly, he glumly noted that the severe lighting was a perfect spotlight for the scene playing out in front of him.

Five people knelt in the center of the extremely bright, white room with no furniture. Three men and two women were bound, gagged, and bloodied. They were all blindfolded, flinching at the sound of the people approaching them. Vader could see tears cascading down one woman's dirty cheek as she trembled. Vader thought she could be no older than fifteen. Guards with vibrospears stood over the prisoners, ready to strike if any got out of line.

Vader felt Pamila move closer to him. He felt her need to help the hurt captives, yet her fear of being struck down by the Emperor was stronger. Vader held her closer to him, her head practically resting on his chest.

The Emperor noticed this and smiled, "Gentlemen and lady, I present to you the last remnants of Freedom with Blood. What you see before you is a representation of what happens to those who would stand against the Empire. The rest of their group was killed trying to fight off Imperial insurgents. These lost souls surrendered, seeking mercy. They have been reminded there is no mercy for criminals. Now it is time for their final lesson."

"Why haven't they been tried? They should be in a courtroom, not an execution chamber! That is what our constitution states!" Senator Organa spoke up. The rest of the group remained silent and took a few steps back, not wanting to be associated with Bail and his old Republic sentimentality.

The Emperor smiled one of his evil half smiles, "You are right senator. However, an amendment in the constitution states that I have the power to sentence criminals who have committed direct crimes against the Empire, such as those who are part of a rebellious factions. As for these misguided souls, my sentence for them is death."

With deliberate slowness, the Emperor made his way over to Pamila and Vader. Pamila held on tightly to Vader. He could feel her silent plea for protection. But Vader was frozen, conflicted in his emotions and loyalties. Before him were the two people that dominated his life. Pamila, whose kind soul and gentle ways had coaxed out the man within the monster. And Sidious, who had made him addicted to the strength and power of the Dark Side.

But now it seemed he had to choose: The sweetness of Pamila? Or the power of Sidious?

The Emperor outstretched a hand when he reached Pamila and caressed her cheek. It was clear Pamila was trying not to pull away as Sidious began to speak softly, "The Rebellion must learn that Pamila and all the Empire holds dear is off limits. We must protect our own."

Pamila subtly moved her face away from the Emperor's hand. Not enough to be seem rude, but enough to escape his touch.

"If you are doing this for my sake, then let them live." Pamila beseeched the Emperor.

Vader watched as his Master made his face look sad and sympathetic, "Oh my dear Pamila, don't you want justice to be done? Don't you want to ensure peace?"

"Justice has already been dealt," Pamila countered sharply. "Willmeif and his sidekick are dead. They are the ones who kidnapped me and they got what they deserved."

The Emperor chuckled in the back of his throat, making Vader want to strike him down for his blatant disrespect for Pamila.

"So idealistic," The Emperor murmured. "A credit to your age and innocence. However, this galaxy is not as naïve or virtuous as you. These prisoners are dripping with guilt. They have committed heinous crimes right alongside Willmeif. They would have tortured you without a second thought if Willmeif ordered them too. Their mere existence is a threat to peace and order."

Vader was surprised to see Pamila smile at the Emperor with the same twisted smile, "And let me guess, only _you_ can bring peace and order to the galaxy? Très Hitler."

The smile on Sidious's face didn't diminish at Pamila's boldness, "I am certainly not afraid to do what must be done, if that's what you're implying. I have the greater good in mind, not just the childlike ideals of today. Besides, I have many who help keep the peace and crush disorder."

At that, the Emperor turned his evil gaze on Vader. His Master then gestured to Vader's Lightsaber, "If you would be so kind, Lord Vader, and demonstrate for us how to crush disorder."

The blood rushed from Vader's head. What was just asked of him? Did his Master really expect him to kill five people in front of the woman he loved?

Without any doubt.

Everyone else in the crowd understood the implications as well. Gasps emanated from even the burliest naval officers. Their faces grew deathly pale as they tried desperately to avoid looking at Vader, Pamila, or the Emperor. Bail stepped forward, his face red with anger.

"No, not like this!" the senator protested. "You can't kill them like this. Not with Pamila here!"

"I am killing no one," the Emperor smile, then looked at Vader. "As you were, Lord Vader."

Vader turned his head, looking into the eyes of both Pamila and Sidious. Fixing his gaze on Pamila, his heart sank. Her eyes were glossy with tears because she knew what was coming. He felt her left hand move to his chest, gently caressing his dark armor.

"Please. Please don't do this," she whispered, her right hand grasping his arm desperately. "Please don't kill them."

Tears fell from Vader's eyes and rolled down his cheeks, though no one knew it. The sight of Pamila's saddened face and quivering lips was breaking Vader's heart. His mind flashed back to Padme on Mustafar. How she begged Anakin to run away with her.

Then Vader remembered how Anakin choked the life out of her and their unborn child.

In this moment, Pamila was the perfect mirror to Padme. They had the same bleeding face, begging him to turn to the Light.

With Padme, he chose the Dark. But with Pamila, he was being seduced to the Light.

Everyone in the room was a captivated audience member. Vader felt them watching his interaction with Pamila as if it was a recently released opera! No one dared to breathe too loudly, fearing they may not hear what was going to happen next.

As Pamila pawed gently at Vader's chest, he heard his Master's voice in his head.

 _Do it! You know this is the only way to keep her safe! Scum like this will always try to kill her. She will always be a target. You must show strength, my apprentice. Remember the power of the Dark Side._

Vader closed his eyes and focused. He made Pamila a target the moment he met her. No matter if they were together or apart, she would be a point of attack for his enemies to exploit. Willmeif proved that. His Master was right.

To keep her safe, Vader must not show _any_ weakness.

Gently, Vader raised one of his gloved hands and placed it on Pamila's. He squeezed it sweetly before he removed it from his chest. With the other hand, he unclasped his Lightsaber from his belt. Pamila's eyes grew wide with fear as she watched his actions. His heart filling with icy pain. He cupped her chin with his free hand. He forced her to meet his gaze. When she did, the sadness and shame in her eyes stabbed him in the heart.

"Forgive me," he stated mournfully. The tears in Pamila's eyes spilled between lashes and ran down her face, making her cheeks and mouth glisten with moisture.

"Please…Don't please…I love you…Please…" she whispered in a voice barely louder than a breath. Vader doubted anyone else in the room heard her.

He also doubted he would ever hear her say "I love you" again.

Vader walked away from her, but was stopped. She still had a tight grasp on his left arm. He could have broken her hold easily, but he never wanted to be forceful with her. It must have been quite a sight for the spectators, seeing a young woman in white holding on to the armor of a killer in black. The look on her face was enough to fill anyone's heart with sorrow.

Vader looked at her. Their eyes met. Pamila let go of his arm and fell to her knees in defeat, weeping heavily. Vader was about to rush to her side, but his Master grabbed a hold of him.

"Don't!" Sidious scolded. "It's time we finish these rebels once and for all."

Vader spared one more glance at Pamila. She was now lying on the floor crying. Bail went to her and held her to him like a father would a small child. She was about to hide her face against one of his shoulders, but the Emperor became angry.

"No! She must watch! She must learn!"

Pamila tried to rise up, but her legs gave out, making her tumble into a heap on the ground. Bail put an arm around her shoulder and tried to whisper comforting words in her ear.

Vader's saber arm shook with anger. Anger at Bail for being the one to comfort Pamila and anger at his Master for forcing him to take lives in front of her. But ultimately, these people were rebels and rebels like them would always try to harm her.

Besides, if he did not obey his Master's wishes, the backlash could be directed toward Pamila.

Trying to bury his emotions deep inside himself, Vader ignited his blade. The familiar hum did not fill him with a sense of righteousness like it usually did. He did not feel the rage that fueled his power. Now he felt only sorrow and shame.

Vader took heavy steps toward the prisoners, his blade at the ready. The captives tried to wiggle away in their bond, but the guards jabbed them with a vibrospear to keep them in place.

"Stop squirming!" One guard yelled.

Even blindfolded, the prisoners knew that Vader was now hovering above them, ready to inflict a fatal blow. The young girl began to wail even harder.

"Spare us! Spare us, please!"

The only sounds that echoed in room was Vader's respirator, the hum of his Lightsaber, and the girls cries. Everyone in the audience was leaning forward slightly, eagerly awaiting to see what Vader would do next. In the back corner, Pamila knelt while being held by Bail Organa. Both of whom were being lorded over by Sidious.

"Do it!" Vader's Master snapped.

With one broad stroke, Vader lifted his blade over his shoulder only to swing it back down and cleanly cut off the heads of all five prisoners. As their heads hit the ground with an audible thump, Vader heard Pamila scream.

A little bit of him died in that moment.

He turned to face her, dreading to see the expression on her face. Vader saw the woman he loved folded face down on the floor, her body shaking as she cried out her pain. Bail rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, but to no avail. The senator tried to coax her to sit up, but she refused.

Soon there was no one in the room except for Vader, Pamila, and the Emperor. If the Emperor dismissed Bail Organa and the rest of his guests, Vader did not hear him. He was too focused on Pamila and the hurt he caused her to feel.

Vader knelt down by Pamila and touched her shoulder gently, but she recoiled away from him.

"Get away from me! Both of you! Just go away!"

Pamila stood and stormed out of the open door. The guards looked like they were about to follow her, but the Emperor raised a halting hand.

"Let her go."

Vader didn't remember doing it. He didn't even remember thinking it, but he reached out with the Force and closed Sidious's windpipe. His Master was stunned for a moment, but he quickly used his own power to release himself from Vader's hold.

"Calm yourself, my apprentice. In time, you will see that what I did was necessary."

Vader lowered his arm, knowing any attack against Sidious would be useless, "You turned her against me."

The Emperor shook his head with a smile, "Oh no, her love for you endures. She just needs time. I had you kill the prisoners to show you something of great importance."

"What?"

His Master walked toward him and placed a small object in Vader's hand. He then looked at Vader with his sinister eyes, "I wanted to show you that even in your darkest moments; Pamila will always be by your side. It is in her nature. Stop wasting time, my apprentice. Make her yours."

The Emperor slowly walked away from Vader and out the door, leaving Vader alone with some guards and dead bodies. Still stunned and ashamed, Vader looked at the object his Master handed him. It was a small black box. A small, black _velvet_ box. Vader cautiously opened it and gazed at the contents.

Inside was a beautiful wedding ring.


	40. All of ch 39 has been posted

I have added the of half chapter 39 :) so just flip back to the previous chapter and look for the astrix's and stars I put by where I left off **_would he conclude she was an ally? Or an enemy?_**

Hope you guys like the rest of the chapter. Its dark, but I'm just happy I finally finished it. Thank you all for being Patient :) Your the best :)


	41. Chapter 40

**_Trigger Warning: Some Violent, sensual content. A new side of Vader comes out that some may not approve of_**

 **Chapter 40: Your Love Will Kill Me**

 **Present Day: Guest quarters in the Imperial Palace**

Pamila learned there is one key component to storming off and making a dramatic exit: You need to know where you're going! Pamila didn't know for how long she meandered the strange halls of the Palace. She walked through one of the kitchens, the servant's quarters, some gardens, and into a men's bathroom! Finally, a young girl who looked like a maid stopped her, cowering in fear.

"M-my lady, are you looking for your r-room?"

Pamila reluctantly stopped her fast pace and furrowed her brow at the girl, "My room?"

"Yes," the mousy maid nodded. "The Emperor has prepared a room for you and Lord Vader. A special room."

Pamila raised an eyebrow, both curious and disgusted, "Define _special_?"

To Pamila's surprise, the maid didn't blush as Pamila thought she would. She just looked at Pamila in a confused way, "I'm not sure. Something about a higher amount of air or something."

Pamila sighed and nodded. That made sense. If the room could hold more oxygen than other rooms, that means Vader could function in there without his helmet and maybe even the rest of his suit…

Pamila shuddered. A special room so he could leave his suit and do…what? Pamila didn't know, but after he killed five people in front of her, he sure as hell wasn't gettin' lucky tonight!

Out of sheer pride and stubbornness, Pamila wanted to refuse the room. She didn't want to go somewhere that horrible ruler picked out for her! But on second thoughts, she realized she didn't have anywhere else to go.

Pamila shrugged and raised her hands in defeat, "Yeah, sure. Lead the way."

The maid (who Pamila later learned was named Anu) led Pamila up two flights of stairs and down one hall. They eventually ended up in front of what looked like a military-grade, airtight metal door. On the right of the door was what looked like a palm scanner (or at least that's what Pamila thought. It looked like it came from a James Bond movie).

As a joke, Pamila placed her hand on the sensor, expecting it to turn red and beep at her. To her surprise, it flashed green and she heard the door unseal/unlock

 _How did they get my hand print?_ Pamila wondered. But then she just rolled her eyes. The Emperor had his ways.

Pamila looked at Anu wide eyed. Anu nervously twiddled her thumbs as Pamila looked at her, "I think it is unlocked, my lady." Anu urged sweetly.

Pamila rolled her eyes and placed her hand on the door handle, "Call me Pamila. I'm not a total ego-maniac."

 _That's the Emperor's job._

Luckily, Anu finally smiled, "Yes, my…I mean, Pamila."

Suddenly, Anu's face paled, turned away from Pamila, and scurried away like a mouse running from a cat.

"Hey, where are you going?" Pamila called out, but Anu didn't look back.

Then Pamila felt it. A familiar presence. A _dark_ , familiar presence….

"What do _you_ want, Vader?" Pamila asked sharply. She didn't even turn to appraise him.

She felt Vader stand uncomfortably close to her back. She felt his desire to touch her, but he was afraid she would reject him.

He would be right. She didn't want his hands anywhere near her right now.

"I…wanted to make sure you were alright." He said in an apologetic voice. "I was worried."

Pamila turned to face him, " _You_ were worried? You? What right do you have to worry about _me_?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Pamila turned and began to walk away from him, but she didn't even take a second step. Before she knew it, a firm grip wrapped around her arm, pulling her into the room she barely unlocked. Pamila didn't know if he meant to yank her that that hard, but she toppled onto the wooden floor of the plush room the Emperor had set up for them.

Vader quickly entered the room, closing the door, locking it, and pressing a button that filled the room with additional oxygen.

Pamila stood up off the ground and moved toward Vader. She began pounding her fists onto his chest and torso while her feet kicked his shins. She wanted him to pay. To suffer the way those five-innocent people suffered. She wanted him to hurt and cry. But he just stood there like a brick wall. He took her beating silently, as if it didn't even affect him. She doubted he felt any pain.

Eventually, Pamila stopped wailing on him, her hands and feet beginning to ache, while he remained uninjured. She sunk to her knees, huddled in ball by his shiny black boots. Pamila felt no strength within her. There was deadness inside of her that she had never felt before. A numbness that consumed her slowly. She couldn't even find the strength to cry.

"Why?" Pamila mumbled. "Why did you do it? Why did you make me watch?"

Slowly, Vader crouched down beside her, trying to make her look at him. She kept looking away, shying away from his hands every time he tried to touch her. Perhaps overwhelmed by frustration, he latched a gloved hand around her jaw and forcefully turned her head to look at him. She squealed loudly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but his hold on her was too strong.

With his other hand, he quickly removed his helmet and mask. Pamila cursed herself for the feelings of affection and lust that filled her at the sight of his true face. He was a monster, yet after all he did, she could still feel a yearning heat grow in her core. A burning that only _he_ could satisfy.

He tossed his headgear loudly onto the ground, causing them to slide across the wood floor. It crashed hard against the wall, but Vader didn't spare a glance. He sank to his knees, pulling Pamila by the jaw towards his face. Pamila saw his eyes. They were no longer the sweet blue she remembered. Now they were a harsh yellow, like the Emperor's. His brows were creased in anger as his fingers created bruises on Pamila's skin.

Pamila looked at anything but those fearsome eyes, but that only angered him.

"Look at me!" He growled.

Tears moistened Pamila's cheeks as she reluctantly met his crazed gaze. She felt like the innocent virgin stuck in the clutches of a dark dragon. At the bottom of her vision, she could see the powerful contrast of her pure, white dress with his black armor. Her sweet knight had turned into a rough demon. Her body seemed to shrink within itself as his eyes bore into hers. The emotion within them was intense. There was anger, domination, and a fearsome love that made Pamila tremble in his firm hold.

"Please," she whispered between fearful gasps. "Please. . ."

Vader pulled on her jaw, crashing his lips onto her own, causing Pamila to cry out in surprise. His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back sharply, allowing him better access to her lips. Out of both shock and lust, she moaned at his roughness. One of her hands grasped the fabric of his tunic, not knowing if she should push him away or pull him closer. He took it as an invitation. He grabbed her bum and made her hips grind against his. She moaned into his mouth.

She should have slapped him. For a moment she wanted to, but as he took her bottom lip into his mouth, Pamila's will-power began to fade. He bit her lip harshly, sucking on it possessively as he did, causing her hips to buck against his. She cried out in pain, remembering the time they spent together on Mustafar. He kissed her many times when they were alone, but each kiss was a brief expression of gentleness. Not once was he forceful or rough. They were kisses like a hazy, teenage romance.

This kiss was of a dysfunctional, dark, and domineering love. And despite her brain screaming for it to stop, she loved it.

Both his hands were in her hair now, pulling her neck back. He released her lip only to thrust his tongue into her mouth, fighting for dominance over her body. It wasn't much of a fight. Pamila was already submissive to his touch.

She had always been submissive to him. Only now did she realize the power he had over her.

Pamila had always been a masochist.

Finally, after her lips were bloodied and bruised, Vader pulled away. He licked away some of the blood he drew, then looked at her. His eyes were still yellow, but some of the rage had vanished. Still, a gleam of dominance shined within them. He leaned forward and tilted his head, latching his teeth around the rim of her ear, then licking the marks he left behind.

"Say you love me." He breathed. "Tell me I'm not a monster."

Pamila quaked as his strong arms snaked around her waist. She opened her mouth to fulfill his request, but the words fell dead on her tongue. The image of beheaded bodies flashed in her mind. She could still see the red light of Vader's blade and could hear the thump of bloody heads rolling on tile. She relived how Vader ignored her pleas, blindly obeying the Emperor. He didn't care for her. If he did, he would have spared her this pain.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, Pamila freed herself from Vader and backed away from him.

"You don't love me," she exhaled. "You never did."

Vader moved quickly. Pamila didn't have time to react. She just felt her body slam into a nearby wall. Her vision blacked as her head hit the hard surface. Invisible hands lifted her wrists above her head, holding them in place. Pamila fought her invisible bonds. Vader's hand cinched around her throat as his body loomed dangerously close to hers. He squeezed her delicate neck. She could still breathe, but it was enough to tell Pamila who had the control in this room.

"You can't even begin to understand the depth of my love for you," Vader spoke. "You don't know what I have done and what I am willing to do to ensure that you are protected. Everything I do, I do it for you!"

Pamila shook her head, refusing his words, "But those prisoners…"

Vader's grip tightened, silencing her voice, "There is no exception! Those…people…were criminals and thugs. They hurt many innocents. If Willmeif asked it of them, they would have hurt you too! And if I spared them, they would just spread the seeds of rebellion, putting you in more danger. And if they lived and destroyed a family, would you wish I killed them then?"

Pamila sobbed as he spoke. Even if his statements were rational, she didn't notice. Her mind was focused on the trauma. It didn't help that Vader was scaring her! She could feel that he spoke the truth. He did love her and (for whatever forsaken reason), she loved him. Still, how could she let her heart be stolen by a murderer?

As a large tear rolled down her face, Vader removed his hand from her throat and wiped it away. Pamila inhaled, her breath quivering at his sudden gentleness. Slowly, his eyes returned to their soft blue coloration, tears filling the bottom of them, eventually spilling out onto his face. As he cried, the invisible ropes that held Pamila's wrists in place loosened. Once she was unrestrained, she cupped his face with her hands. She flinched when his eyes quickly shot her a look, but she relaxed once he turned to kiss her palms. His body slowly lost its tension as he melted under her touch.

He softly rested his forehead upon hers, "I will never deserve you. My darkness was not meant to be shared, especially not with an innocent like you."

Pamila's tear-soaked mouth trembled as she looked at him compassionately, "Vader, I…"

"Please," Vader interrupted, carefully putting a finger to her lips. "Please, just let me say this, for a fear I may never find the strength to utter these words again."

Vader tenderly led Pamila away from the wall and sat her on the edge of the silken bed. He sat beside her, holding onto her hands tightly, "I am not a good man. Nor do I think I can ever abandon my shadows and sins. I have lived a life of bitterness and death. I will never be free of that burden. You are a Light. An angel that has given me comfort when I deserve nothing but torment. A woman like you deserves the best and I am a monster. I should never ask you to stay by my side and love me forever…but I am."

Pamila sucked in an audible breath as Vader slid off the bed and knelt on one knee. From an unknown pocket, he withdrew a small, black box. He held it in front of him, opening it as he did. A diamond ring glimmered before Pamila's eyes. It was a circular, medium-sized diamond surrounded by many smaller ones, all of which were beautifully cut. They sat upon a shiny silver band.

"Pamila Jenkins," Vader spoke, his natural voice gaining a nervous tremor. "Can you find it in your heart to love a broken, old man? To gift his blackened soul with your Light? There may be pain and tears, but my love for you will never wane. You're the only power in this universe that makes me feel human. In other words, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Pamila was still. It was as if she left her body and was watching the proposal from afar. Her mind started spinning, as did the room, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. All she could do was look into Vader's eyes. The icy blue hue lulled her into a trance. What secrets lay hidden behind them? An image of Pamila looking into those eyes in a wedding dress crossed her mind, as did the thought of gazing up at them as they lay in the marriage bed…

But what about when the honeymoon was over? Could she marry a man an entire galaxy feared?

"Pamila?" Vader prompted shyly, silencing her racing mind.

Pamila looked at the ring, then at Vader, her whole life seeming to both end and begin.

"I…I…"

 ** _THE END_**

 ** _Thanks for reading Everybody. I will be writing a long authors/ thank you note after this, so check that out later. And look for the sequel to this story. It will be called_** ** _"In Sickness & In Darkness". _****_It will have more Luke, Leia, and Pamila coming to terms with her life as Padme Amidala! I plan to publish it on this site in December, around the release of The Last Jedi movie! Sorry if this ending piss some readers off, I just had to do it. It was too good to pass up. Love you all!_**


	42. Thank You!

Author's Note

Holy Shit! I can't believe this part one of Pamila/Vader's story has come to an end! Re-reading this story from beginning to end, it has been quite a journey. Thank you all for being part of the experience, watching Pamila's and Vader's relationship grow over time! We have come a long way! To everyone who has commented, you have been very encouraging to me. As are those who fav and followed. And thank you all for you compassion for not pointing out my many typos and plot holes ;) (Why is Pamila about 23 years old but Leia is only 19? Truth: The Author doesn't know. She just didn't want Vader dating a teenager who was the same age as his kids. The Author will just say "The Force works in mysterious ways.")

I feel like this story was two separate novellas squished into one decent novel. Vader crashing on earth could have been a separate story, as could Pamila being captured by Willmeif. But I thought it would be more interesting to mash them up! I was very worried that this was waaaaaaay to long of a fanfic, but your constant reassurances made me feel more confident in my writing. The only reason I am ending this story and making a sequel is:

1) to give the illusion that your waiting for real Star Wars story.

2) to take a break and gather my thoughts

3) to figure out what the hell I'm actually going to write!

All I know so far is the Emperor is going to be in some sort of emergency and the story will be more focused on Pamila and her life than Vader (although Vader will have a VERY strong presence).

This is my first novel long project that I have completed! Yay! They say you always remember your first ;) Thank you all for your support! Vader was such a compelling, twisted, and emotional character to write. In my very biased opinion, I think he is one of the most layered, emotional, & complex characters in modern film/literature. That being said, it was hard to write him in romantic setting. It was even more difficult to create a character that would be fairly compatible with him. I always wanted to do of a reincarnation of Padme, since George Lucas based the Force so heavily on many Eastern philosophies and religions. Reincarnation just made sense. However, I didn't want her to just be a replica of Padme. I wanted her to be slightly Force-sensitive & more snarky, enabling her to handle Vader's dark side a little better.

I don't know what else to say. Just THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! And I hope you all come back to read the sequel. I hope it will live up to your expectations!

Here are some songs that I think fit this story:

1\. Your love will kill me from Notre Dame de Paris

2\. Hold me by Janine

3\. Love the way you lie Part II by Rihanna and Eminem

4\. Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey

5\. Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

6\. Addicted by Kelly Clarkson

7\. Monster by Lady Gaga

8\. Hellfire from The Hunchback of Notre Dame

9\. Sound of Silence by Disturbed

10\. What I've done by Linkin Park

11\. The show must go on by Queen

P.S: Does anyone have any visual artistic skills? I would love to see some drawing and depictions of Pamila & Vader! I would do it, but I can't even draw a stick figure! Would anyone be willing to do it, (if they have the time)?

THANK YOU ALL!


	43. SEQUEL! SEQUEL! SEQUEL!

**_I'm Back!_**

 ** _I promised you a sequel and here it is!_**

 ** _In Sickness & In Darkness_**

 ** _I posted Chapter one barely a breath ago ;)_**

 ** _Pamila & Vader are back!_**

 ** _They will have no mercy on your emotions!_**

 ** _This will be a darker story, so rated M for adult content._**

 ** _I regret nothing!_**

 ** _Also check out my Young Palpatine fanfic: Allure of Evil Charms_**

 ** _Wishing you happy holidays and fluffy unicorn babies :)_**


End file.
